


Never Catching A Break

by aidyr



Series: All's Fair in Love and 24 [3]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Explicit Language, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lesbian Cephalopods (Splatoon), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Some Humor, here we go again squiddos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aidyr/pseuds/aidyr
Summary: It's been a couple weeks since Three and Eight have become official. These couple weeks have been some of the calmest, happiest weeks for the two. But alas... they never seem to catch a break. And it all starts with an unexpected visitor.(Takes place after the events of Fortune Favors the Bold.)





	1. The Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> The third installment has arrived! Strap in folks, we're in for a bumpy ride.
> 
> This takes place a couple weeks after FFtB, and just like the last story, I suggest starting from the first story in the series. You can read as a standalone, but chances are you're gonna be occasionally confused. Since I'm not going to be re explaining plot details which were already established in the previous two fics.

“So what you’re saying…” Eight mused, “is that turtles are better than rabbits?” Her head was resting comfortably on Three’s chest, the inkling sitting just behind her on the couch. The latest splatfest had been announced: tortoise vs hare. The race was on.

Now, Eight didn't actually know what either of those animals were. But Three had shown her illustrations online of what they had supposedly looked like, when such creatures had roamed the planet. It didn’t take long to conclude the objective superiority of rabbits. They were so fuzzy and cute!

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Three responded starkly. Her arms wrapped themselves snugly around Eight’s waist; an act of intimacy not thought possible by either party until recently. It’d now been two weeks give or take since they had sealed the deal on their relationship, and honestly? Eight couldn’t be any happier. Her tentacles swayed joyously at Three’s blatant cuddling -- though the inkling would die before admitting to being cuddly -- it was amazing how quickly the two had warmed up to showing their affection. Especially Three who, let’s not kid ourselves, was far from peak sociability. “I mean, it's right in the story right? The hare was an arrogant little shit and he got his ass beat for it.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you but consider this…” Eight paused for dramatic effect. “Bunnies are cute.”

“That’s not a good reason to pick a splatfest team.”

Nonsense! Cute rabbits were the best reason to join a team! “Didn’t you only choose team wizard cause you liked the ink color?” Three’s cheeks warmed up in that oh so adorable way Eight always loved. “And why was that, hmmmm?” The octoling prompted with smug tone of voice. It was no secret that Three had chosen wizard cause the ink color was similar to Eight’s. Which was cute as heck, and super duper flattering, but she had no room to talk about bad reasons to choose teams.

“Okay, point taken, Cod.” Three mumbled, clearly embarrassed by Eight’s comeback. Checkmate, Three. Checkmate.

Eight giggled, shifting around a bit to meet her favorite pair of eyes. “So, what do you wanna do today? We’ve got like, all day to do something.”

The response she got was a thoughtful hum. Three took a deep breath and sighed, “I kinda don’t wanna do jack today.” Which was fair, Eight thought. It was one of Three’s few days off. And for most of the following week, the elder agent had her schedule filled running missions and playing ranked battles to fill the gaps in her paycheck.

Y’know… maybe Eight could look into getting a job? Granted she was an honorary SBS agent or something, she hadn’t really done anything since the metro. Three was far from the wealthiest cephalopod out there, so it’d do them both some good to have the octoling employed. Sure, she got whatever she wanted thanks to the celebrities who had all but adopted her. But no way was she going to ask Marina and Pearl to help pay rent. Hm… yeah. She made that a note to self.

Should probably look for a job.

“That’s fair.” Eight looked back at her girlfriend, taking notice of the small, easily missed smile she wore. It was wonderful to see the her smile. Relatively speaking, she’d done that far more these past couple weeks than in the several months Eight had known her for. “Wanna lay here a bit longer?”

At this, Three nodded.

Eight went to comment on how affectionate her favorite grump was being today but was interrupted by a buzzing in her pocket. Eyebrow raised, she pulled out her phone and eyed the notification.

“Who is it?” She heard Three ask semi-interested.

“Four, it looks like.”

“Oh. What does she want?”

“Well, let’s see…”

 _Four > Hey Eight uh… Some lady stopped by my place a bit earlier. I think she was looking for Three. I can’t get ahold of the jerk so could you ask her what that was all about? And why she was at my house and not yours? All I got was that she’d been given the wrong address, but that seems like a weird coincidence, right? Just a heads up, I pointed her to you guys._

Eight noticed Three reading over her shoulder, as well as the disgruntled sound she made at what appeared to be something involving her. No doubt because she’d been hoping to shrug off obligations today but… oh well.

“Why hasn’t she been able to reach you?”

“Left my phone in my room.” Three answered plainly, still studying the text with a suspicious glare. “More importantly, who the hell is looking for me on my day off? I’m not letting anyone get between me and bumming around today.”

Eight didn’t have a good answer, which was fine cause that was probably rhetorical. Now… what to write back? Her fingers began tapping away at the screen. She still wasn’t the fastest texter, but she’d been getting better.

_Eight > Three doesn’t seem to know either. What did she look like?_

_Four > Idk?? She was kind of old I guess. Old inkling chick with greenish yellow tentacles. She looked like she had a stick up her butt for sure._

_Eight > What does that even mean?_

_Four > A sourpuss._

_Eight > Ah. Well… we’ll let you know if we figure anything out._

_Four > Cool. Cause I don’t want her back at my house. She had weird vibes._

Eight put her phone away and turned back to Three, who’d become oddly silent. “Any ideas?” She asked, hoping the physical descriptors had given her some idea as to who was apparently looking for her. But the question was met with further silence.

The room had suddenly grown vaguely tense. And uh… Eight didn’t care for it. The octoling sat up and turned around, getting a better look at her partner’s contemplative face. “Hey, Three? What’s up?”

“I…” Three opened her mouth but immediately shut it. It was impossible to name the look she was making or the many emotions that went into it. “It’s uh… It’s nothing.” She dismissed, though she herself seemed unconvinced. 

“You sure?”

Three frowned, her posture losing the comfy, contented air from moments ago. She groaned, though whether it was annoyed or anxious, Eight couldn’t tell. “Yeah.” She sighed. “Don’t worry about it.”

Well… okay. Eight wasn’t particularly reassured, but if Three wanted to drop it, then that was fine. Time for a conversation change. “Hey so while we’re not doing anything productive you want to watch a movie or something? Play video games?” Anything to lighten the mood. “We could watch one of your many spy flicks.”

“Well…” Three huffed air through her nose before closing her eyes and taking a slow, relaxing breath. After a couple moments of impromptu meditative breathing, she gave Eight a tiny grin. “I am a slut for spy movies. Sure, why not? Go pick one out, they’re all good.”

Relieved that the brief though intensely disconcerting unease had come and gone, Eight hopped off the couch and made her way towards Three’s ever impressive stack of nerdy DVDs. When Eight told Marina and Pearl about their date night, she had included every detail as per their request (well… excluding the dramatic reveal regarding a certain inkling’s troubled past… that would be disrespectful on so many levels,) and it had come to her attention that apparently nobody used these DVD things anymore. And that -- in the words of MC princess herself -- Three was a total hipster for hoarding the small disks.

She let her hands sift through the options, before she stopped on an oldish looking movie titled _‘The Squid Who Loved Me’_ with the subtitle _‘007’_. The cover featured a burly inkling man holding a gun and looking quite serious. And sure, why not? Looked like as good a choice as any.

Retrieving the DVD, Eight popped open the box and inserted it into the player. Then made her way back to the couch and proceeded to plop down next to Three for continued cuddles.

“What’d you pick?” Three asked, staring curiously at the blinking screen. She wrapped her arms back around the octoling, and lazily rested her chin on the younger girl’s shoulder.

“I dunno, something with some guy with a gun.”

“Eight, that describes literally every spy movie.”

“Well maybe you should stop watching such samey movies.” A mischievous grin crept across her lips, and with a sneaky (though somewhat hopeful) voice, she suggested, “we could always watch Blue is The Warmest Ink. If you wanna stop treating me like a toddler.”

The response was immediate, firm, amusing, and satisfying as the inkling spat bashfully, “No, fuck you, never, we’re watching the damn spy movie.”

Someday Three… Someday Eight was gonna watch the heck out of that movie, and then she’d understand why it warranted such a reaction.

Just as the screen flickered to life, and revealed to the peevish little inkling the movie Eight had chosen, there were several loud knocks on their door.

Now then… a choice needed to be made… stay on the couch and remain comfy with Three? Or be polite and go see who had arrived? The decision was a difficult one, indeed. Three was too warm to resist, but what if it was someone they knew?

Apparently the choice wasn’t so hard for the elder agent, who continued to sit unmoving on the sofa. “Ignore them, maybe they’ll piss off and I can finish enjoying my day off.”

Eight chuckled lightly. “I’m tempted to but… I think maybe I should see who it is. Who knows? Maybe it's Cap’n with your agent salary.”

Reluctantly, Three released the octoling from her grasp, and mumbled bitterly under her breath, “Damn well better be.”

Eight got to her feet and skipped her way to the door. They didn’t have one of those peak-y hole things that some people had for their doors. Which was a shame because several times had she opened up to a sales inkling who all but talked her ears right off. And once to a group of creepy anemones in white shirts talking about like… Being cleansed or saved or something? Three had promptly instructed her to slam the door on those people the next time they showed up, so here’s hoping it wasn’t them again.

Twisting the doorknob gently, Eight opened the door and stuck her head out cautiously— more than ready to shut the door on any off putting anemone people. But what she was greeted with was the stone cold stare of an elderly squid lady.

Huh… okay so… Greenish yellow tentacles… weird vibe… perhaps with a stick poking her anal cavity… or whatever Four had said.

“O-oh… hello there.” Eight greeted shyly. “How may I help you?”

“You,” the older lady started, “can tell me if there’s anyone else here. Short, angry, girl with green ink. It's important.”

“Er… yeah, let me get her for you.”

Eight left the door open a crack, and turned to gather her girlfriend, but was surprised to find the inkling had already gotten up. She stood a good distance away from the door, but still had a clear visual on their visitor.

And she looked _furious._

“Why the _fuck…_ ” Her voice came out as a trembling growl. “Are you here?”

And Eight could do nothing but stand awkwardly and watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUHN DUHN DUUUUHN.
> 
> Only one chapter in and shit is already going down.
> 
>  
> 
> Speaking of shit going down, ha ha, my shit grades sure are going down please end me. :^) I'm joking of course, but maybe not. The world may never know.


	2. Fingers Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who decided to show her bitchass? Ya'll know what's up.
> 
> Also this chapter is also from Eight's POV.

“Well that’s one way to greet family.”

Eight stood unmoving, unsure what to do or say. Should she say anything at all or just let Three deal with… whatever exactly this was? And wait, did she say she was family? Eight’s gears turned, slowly making sense of the situation. Three’s parents had died when she was young, and there was only one other relative the inkling had ever spoken of. _Especially_ only one who could garner such an intense response.

Which could only mean… 

Oh. 

Admittedly, it was kind of embarrassing how slow she was on the uptake. But obviously, if the murderous glower on her girlfriend’s face was an indicator, this woman had to be… her aunt… 

And suddenly, Eight was feeling a tad more murderous as well.

“Family?” Three chuckled a hallow, emotionless chuckle. “You… You’re anything but family, you bitter, pathetic old hag. You know what? I don’t give a single shit why you’re here, I just want you to leave.” She started to march towards the door, fists clenched tight. This wasn’t the same brand of anger Eight had seen several times before. Not the annoyed anger Three felt when something inconvenienced her, not the sour anger she had whenever she made an ass of herself, not even the seething dangerous anger she’d shown at the arcade a couple weeks ago. Right now, her voice was low, even, and spoken with the same icy detachment you might see from an executioner giving their victim their last words.

And frankly it was frightening.

Eight wanted to jump in like she had to the last time Three’s judgment was clouded by vexation. But she was far, far out of her depth here. That and honestly speaking, she herself was having a difficult time resisting the urge to strangle such a detestable being. 

“Auntie, I didn’t leave that hell hole the second I could just to have you wriggle your way back into my life the second I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” She gripped the door, and stared intently at the older inkling who, surprisingly, didn’t even flinch under the sharp gaze. “Let me make myself crystal coddamn clear. Stay the fuck away from me. Or next time, you’ll be leaving without a couple teeth.”

“Hana—”

“And _never,_ ” Three scowled, “ever, call me that.” Then proceeded to slam the door so hard it was amazing the thing didn’t fall straight off the hinges.

Okay. This was a lot to process very suddenly.

Eight was at a loss. This had been the last thing expected today. It was supposed to be Three’s day off. They were going to chill, and cuddle, and generally just be happy and comfortable for once. But the universe had other plans it’d seem.

But wait, something then caught Eight’s attention. She turned to her partner, who was staring blankly at the door she’d just slammed, and asked… “Hana?”

Three snapped towards Eight and sneered, “ _Don’t._ ” It was more of a demand than a request.

Eight took a surprised step back, eyes wide as she recoiled from the knife sharp inflection Three was using. “A-ah, got it… I’m sorry…” She shuffled nervously, tentacles swaying anxiously under such an intimidating, fixed glare. That is, until the inkling abruptly shrank back and began her own penitent fidgeting.

Her face immediately shifted from loathing to apologetic and shy. “I… s-sorry… I shouldn’t… fuck.” She wrapped her arms tight around her torso much like a hug and looked anywhere but the octoling. “I just… fucking hate that name… like a lot.”

“Oh… So that’s…?”

“It’s my… er… well, my _legal_ name. I stopped using it years ago.”

Eight squinted at the floor. To think…she’d been living with this inkling for months. To think she was now dating her, to think she didn’t know her name… For some reason ‘Three’ had just seemed to fit, so she hadn’t ever questioned it. As ridiculous as that sounds.

The octoling raised a curious brow, though her voice remained careful and soft, afraid she was about to step into no-no territory. “Could I ask… how come? If that’s alright with you?”

Three sighed, green eyes continuing their observation of the floor. “I… This is a lot happening all at once. Let’s just say it reminds me of both my parents and that jackass woman and leave it there. I prefer Three, so please just stick with that.”

That was pretty fair. It was a pretty name, but Eight definitely decided it’d be best to keep that opinion to herself. It’s not as though Three would cease to be… well… Three, now that a technical birth name had been revealed. Truthfully, if Eight woke up remembering her “real name” the next day, she was confident she’d continue to use her number and hoped others would do the same. She’d simply grown accustomed and attached to it. 

“Alright, Three. I understand” Eight made steady and gentle paces toward her girlfriend, who -- now that the anger and surprise had started to wear off -- was beginning to look a fair bit perturbed. “Are you okay?”

Three shrugged, her arms resuming their position around her own torso. “I think I’m debatably not okay a lot of the time but… I don’t know. I’m gonna go lay down. Wake me in a few hours.” And with that, she stalked off towards the direction of her bedroom, leaving Eight to stand quietly alone. The younger of the two watched with worry as her favorite person in the world wallowed helplessly back to the private confines of her room and shut the door.

Well that was a train wreck.

There were a lot of questions and concerns making themselves aggressively relevant in Eight’s mind. The two major ones of course being, why had Three’s aunt shown up and was Three going to be okay? There were other smaller queries however. Including but not limited to: why had she shown up at Four’s house before their own? Was she going to show up again, and if so, what should they do? Obviously she couldn’t let Three be arrested for assault but… well, it’s not like the monster didn’t deserve it. To hit and manipulate a defenseless child, how heartless do you have to be? Eight’s face twisted into a dark grimace; that lady was lucky she didn’t know where her octo shot was, because there were several choice places it could be lodged.

What should she do now?

Intuition told her to give Three some space so… going to cuddle her precious girlfriend was off the table as far as options were concerned. At least for the time being. Finish the movie? It’d be a good time killer, and the sounds of spy shenanigans had persisted in the background for that entire encounter. But to finish it without Three seemed… rude? Well, she had told Four they’d let her know when they found out what was going on so she supposed she could do that.

Eight reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, clicked it on, and pulled up texts. Of course she was going to leave certain info out. But she could probably give the gist of things.

_Eight > The lady showed up. Apparently some of Three’s family._

_Four > Damn for real?? Dude, I don’t know jack about Three’s personal life. What’s the deal? What did she want?_

_Eight > We don’t actually know what she wanted. Three asked her to leave. She said it was important though._

_Four > Yikes, family drama huh?_

_Eight > Something like that… _

_Eight > Anyways, just letting you know._

_Four > Cool, I guess. But now I’m just more confused about why she decided to show up at my house. Like?? That’s kinda weird right?_

_Eight > Yeah…_

It was then that Eight had an idea. She hadn’t hung out with Four one on one in like, ever. And she needed something to do so… 

_Eight > Hey, are you busy today?_

_Four > Nah. Why, what’s up?_

_Eight > Wanna hang out? Maybe you could help me find a job or something._

_Four > Selling your soul to the man like the rest of us, huh? Sure, I don’t got anything better to do. I’m down. When you wanna meet up?_

_Eight > I don’t know anything about souls or “the man” but… nowish? Three is… busy._

_Four > Is she raging out or something?_

_Eight > I don’t think that’s it. But I need something to do for a while._

_Four > I hear you loud and clear! Meet me by Ammo Knights in like, thirty minutes._

_Eight > Sounds good._

Neat. She now had something to do while she gave Three some alone time, and might even land herself a job while she’s at it. Zapfish knows the financial support was needed. Though that said, the octoling wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do. Since coming to the surface she hadn’t ever technically gone through the process to become a citizen. So that definitely complicated things. Plus she’d never had a job, so it's not like she had any resume of sorts. Unless any local employers wanted ex Octarian military to work their cash register. Hopefully they’d figure something out though, Four knew Inkopolis much better than Eight.

Right then… she guessed she should get going. Should she tell Three she was leaving or…? She was tempted to leave without a word, but she really didn’t want Three to come out of her room only to be worried by the absence of her girlfriend and roommate. Eight decided to just let her know real quick she’d be going out, that should be fine.

She walked over to Three’s bedroom door. Several times it had occurred to her how badly she wished they could share a room, but at times like these, maybe separate sleeping areas were for the best. After all, sometimes a person simply needs some privacy. But still… how she didn’t wish she could fall asleep every night wrapped up in Three’s arms. It absolutely helped with nightmares, and the inkling’s body was comfy as heck. Oh well…

She raised a hand to knock softly on Three’s door -- a polite heads up that she was about to enter -- but a soft, choked sound hit her ears and stopped her hand before it made contact with the old, worn out wood. She stood silently for a beat, before pressing a rounded ear gently against the door.

What she heard was the unmistakable, heartbreaking sound of muffled sobbing.

Oh Three…

Her hearts ached hearing Three cry. Her desire to go in and wrap her in a tight hug and tell her everything was okay was a strong one indeed. But something deep down inside told her, once again, that the squid needed some space. As much as that hurt. 

Pointed fangs worried at Eight’s bottom lip, her orange eyes sorrowful and empathetic.

Maybe she should just leave a note.

She needed to be quick though. Didn’t want to keep Four waiting too long. Resolved to do just that, and to make it snappy, Eight rushed into her room to grab a piece of paper and a pen. Her Inklish handwriting was sloppy at the best of times, and it didn’t help that she was rushing but it’d have to do. The note wasn’t anything extraordinary, just that she’d gone out with Four for a bit and that she’d be back soon. And maybe a quick reminder that she was there for Three if ever she needed to be and that she cared about her a whole lot.

She took the note and ran back to Three’s door, promptly laying the paper just by the entrance. Hopefully Three would see it if/when she decided to come out.

Making one last sad glance towards the bedroom door, Eight went to leave. She hadn’t even changed out of her lazy day clothes, which consisted of a large Squid Sisters t-shirt and some grey sweats. It was fine though, Four wouldn’t mind.

She grabbed her house keys and made for the front door. A lot of questions swirled around in her head, and a lot of them pertained to what had just transpired between Three and her aunt. But hopefully now that the older woman had been kicked to the curb, this conflict was over before it even started.

Fingers crossed… 

Eight turned the knob and opened the door, before stepping out of the apartment and into the outside world. She’d best be off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three doesn't deserve all the bs life gives her :/ Poor thing.
> 
> Anyways, Eight is gonna go find a job and hopes everything will work out. We all know nothing is ever so simple though...
> 
> HHhhhhh Idk what to say. Thank you to everyone who's been sticking with this series. I really appreciate all the love and support I've been getting. Anyways, till next time.


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three reflects on some stuff, then decides to see some friends.

Her eyes stung. Fucking tears. How she hated them.

Whenever tears escaped their prison behind her eyes, she felt so weak, so pathetic. So helpless. Maybe it’d be different if her life had been different. But for an uncomfortable portion of her childhood, tears had been a staple in her life. Don’t misunderstand, it's not like her aunt routinely returned home from work, beat her half to death then went about her evening. It wasn’t as intense or dramatized as that. A shitty childhood is shitty no matter how non-fantastical it is. Every ashtray shattered by her feet, every cold slap or forceful shove for talking back had helped shape her into the piece of shit she was today.

Though Eight was likely onto something when she’d said her job might have something to do with it as well. Agent work got kind of messy sometimes.

But at least she had volunteered for that. She knew what she was getting herself into. But never had she asked for, nor deserved being sent to live with her aunt.

Three missed her parents… 

A lot… 

She had been pretty young when the unfortunate accident took place. A car crash of all things. But even so, she had vague and bittersweet memories of her mother’s gentle touch or her father’s hearty laughs. Or how sweet her name felt on their lips.

Closing her eyes, the agent sighed, remembering when that damned name had brought anything good. After she’d lost her parents, never had that name been spoken with good will.

“Hana!” Her aunt would call. “What did I tell you about leaving your junk lying around?”

“Oh… Sorry auntie.” Three would answer disdainfully. Her voice was bitter, she had been living like this for years now. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You’d better, you brat. I have company coming over and the last thing I need is to have you trashing up the place.”

Three rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me, miss? Have you something you’d like to say?”

“Damn it,” she grumbled, “No, auntie. I’ll take care of it.” Three wrinkled her nose and huffed breathily. But apparently that little retort hadn’t been to her aunt’s liking, cause now her collar was being held tight and threateningly by the older inkling.

“Sorry, why don’t we try that again? I am your elder and you will show me respect.”

Three’s respect for this woman had long since flown out the window, and being the jaded young teen she was, she had no issue expressing this fact. “Get your hands off of me, asshole.”

“Hana I’m going to count to three. You’re going to apologize, and then you’re going to do as you're told. Understood?”

She said nothing in response.

“One…”

Silence.

“Two…”

“Three…”

There was a pause; a tense and dreadful quiet filled the room as their eyes met. But it was short lived, as soon the quiet was shattered by the resonating sound of a swift hand connecting with Three’s cheek. Her collar was released, and her aunt turned to walk away. But not without parting words. “Clean this place up. If it’s not clean, you’re not getting dinner. Make it snappy.”

What a bitch. 

Three’s hand felt her cheek, the skin was hot as ink rushed to the slapped flesh. She growled, a low, angry growl from the back of her throat. And her eyes welled with familiar tears. She had mastered the art of standing her ground in the moment, but afterwards, even after all these years, her walls would crumble.

Why was she so weak?

Back in the present, Three was staring up at her bedroom walls. Once again, Eight had seen more than either of them had bargained for. She sensed a pattern… Maybe one of these days, they could exist for a while without some sort of problem emerging.

It had been at least an hour now since all that had gone down. The inkling was feeling better, and though she was thinking of closing her eyes and taking a nap, she didn’t want Eight to feel lonely. Of course, she had said to wake her in a few hours but, whatever. So long as her eyes weren’t leaking anymore, there wasn’t any reason to continue hiding. Maybe some girlfriend time would make her feel even better, who knows?

Although… one could only be so happy while not knowing their asshat aunt’s reason for unexpectedly dropping by. Maybe she shouldn’t have slammed the door so hastily. Who’s to say she wouldn’t be back? After all, she had to have some sort of motivation for showing up, right?

Hm… Cross with that bridge when she got to it, Three decided. Yep, that was the best thing to do. If it was important, it’d come up again. Otherwise there wasn’t any reason to stress over it. Yes sir, that was the decision the inkling had come to.

Now then… she should probably leave her room… 

Grunting, Three lifted herself off of her pillows, which had become fairly damp, and swung her legs off the bed. She pulled herself up, stretched, and rubbed the tear stains off her face as well as she could.

Taking one last deep breath, Three turned to her door and with only a second of hesitation, pulled it open and peered outside. The house was super quiet. Weird.

“Hey Eight?” She called out, to no response. “What’re you up t—” she stopped when she felt a crinkling under her foot. She looked down to find… a note? Huh, okay.

Immediately Three recognized the messy, partially correct Inklish as Eight’s handwriting. The girl was fluent speaking, but her writing could certainly use some fine tuning. Three made a mental note to help her with that sometime, then turned back to the paper. Picking it up, it read:

_sorry to leave all of a sudden im with 4. were going to hang out for a little bit so ill be back later. also i might have a surprise for you when im back!! :)_

_also just letting you know… sorry youre having to deal with more dumb stuff today. i care about you and im here if you ever want to talk so like… you know._

_anyways hugs and kisses! Xoxo (pearl taught me that. <3)_

Well that was the cutest thing ever. The lack of capitalization, apostrophes, and other such grade school mistakes was oddly endearing, though not nearly as much as the last bit. That was precious. It was strange that her handwriting suffered far worse than her texting, but the inkling chalked it up to effective autocorrect and left it at that before she thought too hard about it.

Three felt a smile creeping its way onto her face. Neat how her partner could mysteriously improve her mood in a heartbeat— even more impressive given she wasn’t even there.

Honestly, Eight was such a blessing.

Anyways, Eight with Four, huh? Weird, but okay. Those two hadn’t ever hung out as far as Three was aware. Not one on one at least. But sure, why not? Never a bad thing for Eight to make more friends. And admittedly, she was curious about whatever this “surprise” might entail.

Patience was a virtue though, and she’d find out in a couple hours.

Though that begs the question, what to do until then?

She could take a nap, like she’d originally planned on doing. But suddenly she wasn’t all that tired. Which was amazing, considering how tired she is literally all the time. Eight was off being social so maybe Three could find someone to talk to as well? Introverted though she may be (if not downright misanthropic,) there were a few people she didn’t terribly mind the company of. And it would do some good to have her mind taken off of her aunt. Of course she had wanted to not do anything today, but her thoughts were sure to eat away at her if she sat around doing nothing. Who was available? Obviously not Eight or Four, so that left the idols and Cuttlefish. Damn, were those really her only friends? Her coworkers, employers, girlfriend and acquaintances? Dang.

Three hummed to herself as she went back to her room to grab her phone. When she did, she opened it to find the many texts Four had sent her regarding her aunt’s strange appearance at her house. That was also weird, Three thought. But again, if it was important, she’d worry about it later.

She opened a chat with the one and only Squid Sisters.

_Three > Are either of you free to hang out?_

_Callie > Three! Hey girl what’s up? And yeah actually, I should be free today._

_Marie > Sorry, I can’t. I have stuff to do. Is it important?_

_Three > Not really… _

_Marie > Wait, do you actually just want to hang out? Really? That’s weird._

_Three > Shut the fuck up._

_Callie > Awww Three likes us and wants to spend time with us._

_Three > Hush._

_Marie > Cute. Anyways, I’d be happy so, but unfortunately I really can’t. Maybe next time._

_Three > It’s cool, I get it._

_Three > Just me and you Callie?_

_Callie > Actually, make that three. This works out great, I was gonna go to lunch with Pearl a bit later, so maybe she could join us?_

Oh, sure, why not? Three and Pearl did have a kinsmenship of sorts now. It was basically thanks to her that she had a girlfriend now so… okay.

_Three > Yeah, that’s fine._

_Callie > Sweet! Want to meet up in 30? I’m not doing anything right now. That really homey diner a few blocks from the plaza maybe? You know the one, right?_

Hell yeah she knew the one. Back in the plaza days, before everything up and moved to the square, that little diner was where she spent a fair few of her meals. It’d be really nice to visit the old place.

_Three > Yup, sounds good. See you then._

_Marie > Have fun you two. Try not to break anything._

_Callie > No promises. <3_

Cool. It wasn’t often Three made plans to hang out with others. Usually when she and friends spent time together, it was by happenstance. Not that she disliked spending time with them, quite the contrary. Though she’d never admit it, she was more than fond of those she actually chose to befriend.

Three put her phone away and pondered how worth it it’d be to change into some better outing clothes. Her sweatpants and hoodie weren’t exactly day wear but whatever. Nobody would care, certainly not her.

Quickly, she texted Eight to let her know that she too was going out, and to not worry if she wasn’t back by the time the octoling arrived home.

It had been a while since she got to spend quality time with Callie. And she and Pearl hadn’t spoken much in the past couple weeks since all this romance nonsense had kicked off. 

This would hopefully be a nice respite from all the drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write auntie in a way that was like... Realistically abusive but not to a horrendously awful extent. I want Three's current behavior to make sense but I also don't want to make it seem like the only way someone can be abusive is to be horrifically violent.
> 
> Also yay I really like writing Callie, so I'm glad she's here now. Marie is my favorite, but Callie is a bundle of joy.
> 
> I'm still not 100% sure how many chapters this fic is gonna end up being.
> 
> Also, a couple people in one of my classes found out I write splatoon fanfic so excuse me while I go die real quick. (I'm kidding, they weren't mean about it. One of them also has an ao3 account, that's how it even came up.)
> 
> WHO'S HYPE FOR SPLATFEST BTW? Team hare for the win.


	4. The L Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three has a nice chat with a couple friends

Callie was many things, but on time, she was certainly not. Three had been waiting for twenty damned minutes, and there wasn’t any sign of the pop star nor the tiny rapper she was bringing with her. You can’t set a time to meet up then be the one to show up late for fucks sake. Three had half a mind to get up and leave. But, well, then she’d be back to sadly moping around the apartment until Eight got back from… whatever she was doing with Four. That wasn’t really an appealing alternative. She’d give them another twenty minutes (zapfish save her patience,) but if they were no shows she was so out of ther—

“Sorry we’re late!”

Oh… there they are.

Callie rushed to the booth with another, smaller inkling in tow. Callie donned her trademark beanie and jacket, for whenever she was out in public. And Pearl was wearing that pink hoodie of hers. Three remembered seeing it the day Eight had saved Inkopolis and her immediate thought was to wonder if the M.C had any pants on under there. But uh… could confirm, as she may or may not have glanced after Marina tackle-hugged her to the ground, that she was in fact wearing pants. Denim shorts to be precise.

What? It wasn’t weird that she had looked. Probably.

“You’d best be sorry, my ink was starting to turn grey. Another twenty minutes and I would’ve been looking like Gramps.”

“Hey now” Callie giggled playfully. She picked up a lunch menu and starting to give it a once over. “Don’t pick on Grandpa. He’d give you a piece of his mind.”

“Old dude would probably spit some sick burns at you for talkin’ smack.” Pearl helpfully added.

“I’m sorry… what?” Three squinted at Pearl with both confusion and concern. “Did you just insinuate that Cuttlefish would fucking rap at me? Do I even want to know what makes you say that?” Don’t get her wrong, Cuttlefish was cool and all. But the thought of him throwing down sick beats in any fashion was… a disturbing thought.

Pearl crossed her arms and nodded like a wise old monk. “Old-timer knows his way around a rhyme. We got into some pretty killer battles while Eight was down in the metro.”

“You… You’ve got to be kidding.” Three didn’t care for this information. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Callie sighed, her facial expression matching Three’s own. “I wish she were, Three. I wish she were.”

It’d seem since his return from the metro, Callie had been subjected to many Cuttlefish hip-hop breakdowns. Poor girl… 

Pearl snickered, looking back and forth between the pained faces of her lunch buddies. “You’re all so dramatic.” She laughed, taking up a menu as well, and continued speaking while her eyes skimmed the options. “He ain’t half bad, actually. Hell, I wouldn’t mind workshopping with the guy. Might come up with something rad.”

Three had her doubts. But okay.

“Sure…” She managed, despite her disgust. Rap in general wasn’t really her cup of tea, but old inklings trying to be hip and fresh was terrible. She didn’t even like it when young upstarts attempted to be hip and fresh.

“So.” Callie spoke up, giving her menu a nod before laying it down and looking to Three; seemingly deciding on what to order then choosing to change the conversation. “Let’s cut to the chase. What’s up? You know I love seeing you, but uh… how do I put this delicately? You’re not really the kind to invite your friends out to lunch.”

Damn it. Callie knew her too well.

“Yeah,” Pearl chimed in. “I mean I’ve been wanting to hang out with you some. Since, y’know, a couple weeks ago. But I didn’t know when the right time would be. You seem so… closed off most the time?”

Three sighed. It wasn’t like this were untrue but… it was more complicated than that. “It isn’t really like that,” she tried to explain. “It’s not that I don’t like seeing my friends I just… I dunno. It’s hard to make time for that sorta thing.”

Callie smiled kindly, and placed a hand reassuringly over Three’s. “Hey, I hear you. But still… does that mean there isn’t anything wrong? You know you can talk to me if there is.”

“Me too!” Pearl enthusiastically agreed. “At this point I basically consider myself an advice guru. I mean, I totally got you laid, right?”

“UM. NO.” Three turned and gave Pearl a devilish glare. Saying shit like that was not the best way to get her to open up about her feelings, by the way. She cleared her throat and (failed pathetically) to pretend that little remark wasn’t as deeply embarrassing as it actually was. “I-I… No, we haven’t done anything like that…”

“Aw, lame.” Pearl joked.

Callie’s cheeks had been tinged by a soft, pinkish hue. Though she wasn’t nearly as flustered by Pearl’s banter as Three— understandably so. “Gosh, Three. When’s the last time I saw you blush this hard?”

Well could you fucking blame her Callie?!

“I’m suddenly regretting recent life choices,” Three mumbled halfheartedly to nobody specific.

“Sorry, sorry.” Callie grinned, and gave the younger squid an apologetic pat on the back. “Really though, jokes aside, is everything good?” Though she was smiling, and had that same energetic demeanor as always, Callie’s eyes expressed deep and sincere worry for Three’s well being.

It was nice, Three decided. She didn’t really feel like spilling her guts about literally everything that had just happened but bits and pieces should be okay.

“Long story short,” She began after a moment of quiet, “someone I haven’t seen in a long time showed up at our house. I never really wanted to see her again… She said she needed to see me for something important, but I told her to leave. And now my emotions are fucking with me.” That was a pretty decent summary.

Neither idol immediately said anything. Pearl’s emotions were difficult to decode, but it was clear that Callie was assessing the information before choosing to give her two cents. It was nerve wracking, waiting for people to give input on your personal life and its problems. Three had gotten out of her comfort zone several times these past couple weeks, and today seemed to be continuing that trend. Goodness, after all this mess was sorted out, she’d better have a nice long break from dealing with her problems. No conflicts, so insecurities, no emotional rollercoasters… just hanging out with Eight, doing whatever dumb couple shit they wanted to do. That had been the plan for today after all, until a certain goblin-woman had decided to show her ugly mug.

“Well…” The Squid Sister finally spoke, her voice thoughtful and cautious. “I can tell you’re being vague on purpose, so I won’t push for more information but… Why not just see what she wanted?”

Oh well that was easy. “Because I hate her coddamned guts and I don’t want her ruining my life all over again. _Especially_ since I’m actually some kind of happy right now.”

“Ouch, shit runs deep, huh?” Pearl added in. “I take it this is some pretty deep seeded stuff, and I don’t know how well equipped I am to give you advice.”

“Pft, some advice guru you are.” Three snarked passively.

“Quiet, I’m not done.” The rapper ordered in an authoritative and near motherly tone. “I don’t really know anything about the situation, y’know? But I’d say the only surefire way to destroy your issues is to face them head on.”

“I… What, like, actually invite that bitch into my house for a civil chit-chat?” She was frankly appalled by the idea. “I’m honestly not sure I can do that without stabbing her.” She was joking. Maybe… 

“Oh wow,” Callie blinked. “This is pretty serious. Did you talk to Eight by any chance?”

“Yeah… I mean…” Well, it’s not like she’d really had a chance. Auntie had shown up, interrupted their afternoon, left, then Three retreated to her room while Eight went off gallivanting with Four. “Not really I guess… We probably will talk about it once we both get back home but… uuuughh.”

“Do you not want to talk to her about it?” Callie prompted. It wasn’t an accusation, just a simple and innocent question.

“It’s not that, just… Damn it, that girl has seen waaaay too much these past few weeks. I mean, if anyone on the planet had to get up close and personal with my dumbass, I guess I’m glad it's her. She’s super understanding and sweet, and just way, way too good for someone like me, and I don’t like getting her involved in my baggage, I lov—”

Three stopped dead in her tracks.

Callie and Pearl’s faces lit up like the great zapfish.

Shit.

“Three!” Callie bounced in her seat, her eyes wide and gushing. “Were you about to say the L word?”

“NO! Shut up!” Three hid her green face behind her hand and tried desperately to ignore all the questioning looks their booth was getting from other patrons.

“Nuh-uh!” Pearl laughed a hearty and amused laugh. “Not so fast missy, you totally were!” 

“Uuuuuughhhh,” Three groaned miserably. Why did she talk to these people again?

“That’s so cute!” Callie fawned excitedly. “When did you know? Are you gonna tell her? Do you think you’re moving too fast or is it a case of true love?”

“Pleeeeease stop talking.” Three whined. Her ears twitched in bother and her hearts beat nervously against her chest. Confronting the extent of her feelings toward her lovely octoling girlfriend was _not_ something she felt ready to do.

“Wait, so you’re telling me you’re in love with the girl and you haven’t even gotten to third base yet? Have you kissed?” Pearl was clearly just teasing, if her punchable smirk was proof enough. But damn it woman, learn some class.

“Yes, we’ve kissed, you ass.” Three huffed grumpily. “And isn’t she like, basically your daughter? Doesn’t it feel weird sticking your nose into our private life?”

“I’m a supportive parent.” Pearl emphasized with a casual shrug. “And you know I’m just messing with you.” She gave Three a little nudge with her fist, and offered the same supportive look she’d given back when she had first given Three that life changing pep talk. “I think it’s nice how much you care for Eight. She deserves someone thoughtful and sweet.”

Well those weren’t words Three would personally use to describe herself but… sure, why not?

“Hey,” Callie jumped in. “I know that look. That’s the _‘I don’t believe your genuine compliment’_ look. Trust me Three, you’re a good person. You have problems, but who doesn’t, really? I think Eight is lucky to have you.”

“I swear, whenever she’s with me and Reena, you’re half of what she talks about. Believe us, there’s not a thing she dislikes about you.”

That was… a really nice thought. For all she didn’t care for when it came to who she was, apparently Eight didn’t mind her downfalls. What did she do to deserve such a wonderful person in her life?

“Awww Three, I see that lovestruck look.” Callie proded at the younger agent with a goading poke. “Someone is head over heels, and it’s adorable.”

Three scowled at the pop star, though it wasn’t nearly as authentic or spiteful as she had hoped. But then she paused a moment. She looked between the celebrities she somehow had come to know as friends. She saw their encouraging, toothy grins and their beaming, unyielding support of her and her relationship.

And she smiled.

“You people are lucky I like you.” She replied gently.

Pearl and Callie shared a knowing look, one Three couldn’t decode but didn’t feel the need to. She felt comfortable around the two, and had successfully distracted herself from her downer thoughts.

All in all, she was feeling pretty alright. 

Finally, after an obscenely long wait, a waiter scurried over to their table. “S-so sorry for the wait,” He apologized frantically. “We had some hold up and I think the server who was meant to handle your table just left. Uh… what may I get for you?” He was a scrawny, awkward, inkling. His dark purple tentacles were tied into a messy man-bun, and his employee uniform wasn’t quite fitting his stick-like body. Normally Three would be a little pissy about waiting so long to order but… well, it was hard to be mad at this guy. And after her little chat with Callie and Pearl, she was in a fairly good mood.

“Yeah,” Three nodded cooly. She picked up her menu and pointed to an item. “I think I’ll have an order of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Status update: Three hours of sleep, caffeine runs through my veins. All is well, for I have lesbian cephalopods.
> 
> I tried so hard to squeeze a Scott Pilgrim reference into this chapter, but couldn't find where to put it. Ya'll know the one. Maybe next chapter cause uh... let's just say, there's gonna be a common theme between this chapter and next. The next one is gonna be about Eight and Four.
> 
> Hell yeah for supportive friends! Wholesome good time feelings! Minimal angst! Our babies deserve it.


	5. Job Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight, with Four's questionably helpful assistance, goes to find a job.
> 
> #HappinessForStephen

The hustle and bustle of Inkopolis was still so amazing to Eight. Even after all these months. Inklings running to and fro, grabbing tasty food, playing games, talking, laughing, etc. It was difficult to recall how enjoyable her life with the Octarians had been, but a gut feeling told her there was room for improvement. Between the cracks and holes in what she knew about her past were recollections of meager meals, day-in-day-out military camps, cramped barracks and a constant need to be productive. It was strange what her mind had decided to remember and what not to. Things like Octarian romance, the laws of her people or that her job was one of a soldier remained ingrained within her. But she couldn’t remember any family outside of a couple vague, dreamlike images and she wasn’t sure if she’d had any friends. It should’ve made her sad to not remember the important people of her past. But it’s hard to feel loss when you don’t even know what it is you’ve lost. 

She did however remember the metro, and she remembered that nightmarish hell far too well for her liking. It had been the source of countless sleepless nights. The ink scar on her back was a constant reminder of the bomb, and how each test she found herself one mistake away from agony. Having to kill so many of her own kind… even if they were…. well… not really themselves anymore. Even so, it was cruel of Tartar to not provide respawns for them. She’d had to fight Three and really, it was a miracle she had won. One could only assume the mind control goop lessened her combat abilities. Without sugar coating it, had the two not been interrupted during their first unfortunate encounter… Eight might not be standing here right now. 

Wow, that was a disturbing and terrible thought. It was a little obnoxious she had retained her memories of that cod forsaken battle, as if to spite her for actually wishing she’d forget. Alas, her amnesia had decided to keep those memories in place of family or name. Ain’t that just the way? She knew Three felt bad about it, hated thinking about that fight just as much as she did, and would never hurt her again but…

Okay, she should probably stop thinking about the past. Her memories were starting to bum her out. Time to get a job!

The octoling had arrived near Ammo Knights, as per instructed by a certain mutual friend (hopefully soon to be a regular friend,) and looked around in search of those bright yellow tentacles the younger agent always sported.

Four was loud and bright, so you’d think it’d be easy to spot her in a crowd but uh… nowhere to be found.

Eight’s orange eyes scanned the square to no avail. Maybe she just wasn’t there yet— 

“BOO!”

Eight yelped like a cephalopod caught in rain and just about leapt out of her skin. Her tentacles shook and flared from the sudden adrenaline rush, fight or flight kicking in, but when she turned to fend off the loud and unpleasant sound, she stopped to find an extremely cocky and amused Agent 4.

Eight let out a heavy breath and immediately gripped her chest like she’d just run a marathon. “Oh for the love of… Don’t do that please.” She whined, gazing up at Four with what she hoped was a look of betrayal.

“Aw, sorry Eight.” Four giggled mirthfully, her teeth shining with her humorous grin. She didn’t look sorry at all. “Couldn’t help myself. You looked super lost and confused.”

“I don’t… is it normal to sneak up on and yell at people who are lost and confused?” Eight wondered aloud. “Just when I think Three has taught me all I need to know about Inklings, another bombshell is dropped…”

“Nah, I was just messing with you. I’d suggest not doing that to anyone unless you know them, and are confident you won’t be punched for it.”

“But…I very nearly did punch you. Reflexes and stuff.”

Four shrugged it off. “I knew you wouldn’t though. You’re not Three.”

Eight chuckled at the thought of Four being decked for scaring Three. Actually, the idea of Three being jump scared and screaming like a little girl was one which greatly entertained the octoling.

“Yeah I guess.” Eight said after a pause. “So anyways, you’re going to help me find work, yes? Should we get to it?”

Four nodded eagerly and motioned for Eight to follow her lead. “I have a couple places in mind. I have a few contacts and unbearable levels of charisma so I’m confident someone I know would be willing to give you a go.” 

Four wasn’t one for humbleness, huh? It was pretty refreshing to be around someone so bouncy and self assured. Don’t get her wrong, she adored Three’s grumpy face, but Four put out a new kind of energy she wasn’t used to having around.

“Sounds good, Four!” Eight stopped and looked toward the inkling. She wondered something for a short moment, and with childlike curiosity asked, “Say… what’s your actual name? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Four looked confused by the question but not at all bothered. “Alex, why?”

“Ah…” Eight nodded, for some reason Four never struck her as an Alex. “I-I dunno. Names have been coming up lately I guess. I was just curious.”

“Oh, well cool then. What’s your name? While we’re learning about each other.” The two had stopped walking since they were engaged in friendly conversation. Four crossed her arms and looked at Eight expectantly, though the honest answer to her question wasn’t one Eight could provide.

“I uh… I don’t remember.”

“Oh…” Four squinted at the ground, and fidgeted with the sleeves of her jacket. “Does that… bother you?”

“Oh not at all, actually. In fact, it’d be pretty strange if everyone suddenly started calling me anything other than my number.” Eight smiled innocently, and meant every word. “Would you prefer I call you by your number or your birth name?” After everything with Three, it was only natural she’d feel inclined to ask, right?

Four returned Eight’s smile and shrugged without a care in the world. She was so laid back, Eight was actually impressed. “Eh, do whatever you want. I usually go by the number with you and the other Squidbeak people. But casual friends tend to call me Alex. I mean… mostly cause they don’t know I do the whole agent-y thing, so y’know.”

“Well in that case,” Eight said with a small clap, “I think I’ll continue to use your number. It’s what I’ve grown accustomed to.”

“Sounds good, pal.” Four nodded and turned back towards the building just left of them. “But uh… While we’re job hunting, we are gonna talk to a guy I know outside of the agency. So keep the agent thing on the DL, yeah?”

It occured to the octoling that with herself and Three, there wasn’t any need to be sneaky about their adventures, since the only people either of them talked to were others who already knew. Marina and Pearl were the only ones either of them routinely associated with who weren’t part of the SBS, but since all which had transpired in the metro, the two had become keenly aware of everything the secret group does for Inkopolis.

“Sounds good.” Eight agreed, keeping in mind to be careful what she said. “Are we going to see him now?”

Four waved a hand and shook her head, all while opening the door to the very weapons shop she’d instructed Eight to meet her by. “Nah, this guy knows all about it. He was a big help the whole time I was saving Callie and retrieving the Zapfish.” Four paused, taking a moment to smirk. She looked to Eight and warned in a hearty, smug little voice, “Just know, this guy likes to drone. Patience is a virtue.”

Oh, he was a talker? Eight didn’t mind at all. Pearl had a bit of a mouth on her as well, and it was usually a delight to listen to her ramble. Plus, it was always great to meet new people.

* * *

She minded. She minded so much. Holy… Did he ever stop talking? How long had it been? Her skin must’ve gained a couple wrinkles by now. His voice was basically made to be white noise. Never had Eight known such boredom.

“And that concludes my thesis on the hypothetical insta-refill tank. It’d be very tricky to engineer, but if I could manage, it may revolutionize the way we use ink based weaponry. Of course, its most practical application would be in the field for military operations, salmonoid egg collection or, of course, agent work. The technology would be too advanced and too prone to be taken advantage of or tampered with for safe and fair use in athletic affairs but—”

For the love of all things holy, make it stop. Eight’s ears must’ve been special, because they weren’t leaking ink. How was Four managing this? She was an amazing actress to feign genuine interest in what the crab man was on about. Oh how Eight envied her. She hoped she didn’t look too miserable. She didn’t wish to come off as rude but _come on._

“And what may I do for you, miss Octarian?”

Eight blinked, startled by what appeared to be someone addressing her. Sure enough, she looked to find the little man smiling up at her with a dorky (though admittedly somewhat endearing) sparkle in his eyes. “O-oh uh… You can call me Eight. Or Agent 8. Either one.”

“Oh yes of course!” He beamed, face lighting up as she scuttled over to where Eight had been standing on the other side of the room. “Has Craig added yet another agent to the group? He’s never been one to keep everyone up to date.”

“Something like that? It’s… kind of complicated. I haven’t really done anything for the Squidbeak yet but uh… I guess I did kind of save the world or something so…” Truth be told, she wasn’t sure how eager she was to do any work for the agency. It’d be interesting to work alongside her peers every once and a while. But the metro very well could have been enough action for her entire life time. She’d consider it though. Given her military background, surely she’d be a natural. But it was that very disinterest in anything aggressive which had lead her to not participate in turf wars. Even during Splatfests, the extent of her contribution was picking a team and helping its popularity. (Go team hare.)

“Oh that’s perfectly fine. I may not be on the field myself, but as I understand it, your employers tend to be very kind about their agents and their needs. Take your time, when you’re ready, I’m sure they’ll have something for you to do.”

Aw, okay… he may jaber a lot, but he was a nice guy. “Thanks. I’m glad to hear it.” Eight extended a hand in offer of a handshake, which the shorter of the two happily took. “What might your name be, by the way?”

“Sheldon, a pleasure to meet you. I’m the local weapons supplier for turf players and uh… well, heh, you know. I do help the agents on the side. Cuttlefish was friends with my great grandfather, so I’ve been involved with his shenanigans for a while. My whole life, really. Not that I mind, weaponry has always been a family trade, as well as a passion of mine.”

Oh. Wait, how old was Cuttlefish?? Sheldon had to have been in his twenties at the very least, and if Cuttlefish knew his great grandad… Eight had been under the impression that the elder inkling was maybe like, in his 60s or 70s. But it seemed she’d have to reconsider.

“Oh, that’s neat.” The octoling replied, only half listening now that Cuttlefish had been revealed as possibly immortal.

“Sheldon,” Four cut in, “you know I’m super into weapons and stuff, and could talk about it literally forever. But we’re actually here for a reason. You think you’d mind letting my friend Eight work with you for awhile? She’s been in Inkopolis for a few months, but she hasn’t really found a job.”

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. He seemed like a nice guy, and Eight was fairly knowledgeable on the sort of stock he was selling, but goodness gracious she didn’t think she could listen to him talk for hours, several times a week.

“Hmm…” Sheldon hummed, looking the unemployed young octopus up and down. “Well I could always use an extra pair of hands around the shop. How’ve you been able to afford surface life without a job for months?”

“She’s been bumming off of Three and getting mommy money from Marina and Pearl.” Four chimed in without even sparing Eight a glance.

“I see.” Was it just her imagination or did that sound kind of judgey…? “Anywho, I suppose I could give you a chance. When would you like to start by?”

“O-oh ummm….” Eight looked at Four, pleading with her eyes for the other agent to take the hint. She could only take so many lectures daily, and Sheldon was sure to surpass that quota. When Four didn’t say or do anything to help her out, Eight sighed bitterly and fumbled to come up with an excuse to decline. “A-actually uh… we’re still, you know, looking around. I want to get all my options on the table before making a choice. We can… come back later, and let you know?”

“Sounds perfect!” The nerdy little horseshoe crab spoke with glee. “I’ll await your update. But for the time being, I really should get back to work. See you both later?” 

“Yup,” Eight agreed. “See you later.”

* * *

“Dude what was that?” Four asked with hyperbolic fake confusion. She obviously knew why Eight hadn’t been enthused about the job opportunity, she had that grin Three had often referred to as ‘shit eating.’ “He was totally down to hire you.”

“Yeah…” Eight sighed. “And like… if that ends up being the best option, then we’ll go with that. But I want to try some other ideas first. Where to next?”

“Want someone less talkative I take it. Well, lucky for you I’ve got just the place. Follow me.”

* * *

It took about thirty minutes to arrive, and the pair had traveled by train. Getting off the vehicle, Eight observed her surroundings with passing interest. They were in an area much like the Square only far less crowded. There was a large tower, which looked to be advertising casual turf wars, as well as several shops lining the street. In fact, it was suspiciously similar to the Square.

“Where are we?” Eight asked, looking around at their new environment and following Four down whichever side walk she was leading her. 

“Inkopolis Plaza. Kinda like the Square but dead.”

“Oh… what happened to it?”

Four clicked her tongue in thought. “I dunno. Just became obsolete I guess. Only people who hang out here nowadays are hipsters like that girlfriend of yours.”

Yes, Three had been referred to as a hipster by multiple people on multiple occasions.

“Oh. Well if it’s dead, why are we here? Would anywhere around here be worth getting hired at?”

Four scoffed. “Hey, any job is better than no job, right? And I know a guy here who is a total pushover. He’ll totally give you a job if I ask, dude’s like, wrapped around my finger.”

“Is he a friend of yours?” Eight wasn’t sure, since she still had much to learn about the workings of the surface, but _pushover_ had a pretty negative connotation, and one wouldn’t usually use it so flippantly to describe a friend. And the phrase “wrapped around my finger,” was off putting.

“Ehhhh… sorta. He’s my brother’s bff, and he has a huge crush on me. It’s kind of cute I guess, but I’m not really interested in dating anyone right now. Also he isn’t really my type.”

Was Four planning… to use his crush on her… to get Eight hired… 

Well that seemed incredibly questionable and morally ambiguous. More than a little manipulative. But okay, let’s see how this train wreck goes down.

It took another few minutes to reach their destination. A small, homey little diner a couple blocks away from the Plaza. It looked welcoming and calm. Definitely somewhere Eight wouldn’t mind being a few days a week. The bell opened with a generous jingle as the door was swung open. Immediately the sweet smell of Inkling food hit Eight’s nostrils, and it was heavenly. She’d never get tired of the delicious smells and tastes of surface food. As opposed to the tasteless, nutrition packed bars and cubes she had to eat underground. Yuck.

It was a relaxed place, one where you choose your own table and waited for a server to come tend to you. Eight was going to ask if they should sit down until an employee came to help them, but apparently Four had other plans. Eight watched with mild horror as the small inkling shouted, “YO STEPHEN GET YOUR BONY ASS OUT HERE,” and marched her way past the serving area and disappearing into the workers only section of the establishment.

Oh dear… 

A couple seconds of tranquil silence passed (ignoring the worried glances from dining customers,) before Four re-emerged from around the corner with a blushy male inkling being pulled behind her by the hand. He had purple tentacles, tied back into a bun, an extremely skinny figure and large, round eyes.

“U-uh… Alex?? What are you doing here?” He stuttered nervously, attention flicking down to their joined hands a couple times.

“I need you to get my friend here a job.” She pointed at Eight, who in turn, smiled and waved at the boy apparently named Stephen. “Think you could be a sweetie and do that for me?” She punctuated the request by placing a hand gently on the guy’s chest and offering him a tiny, hopeful smile. Now that was just playing dirty.

“O-oh uuuhhhhh, y-yeah, yes, of course. I’m uh… I, yes, I’m sure I could put in a good word for her.” Eight had just met the guy, yet it was clear as day he was a puppy on a leash. It was kind of sad, but moreover, Eight was entranced watching Four so effortlessly coerce someone. “Um. How have you been by the way?” Stephen pulled anxiously at his uniforms’ collar. “I haven’t seen you in uh, a while. S-so like… I uh…. I dunno.”

Aw, Eight couldn't even lie, the way in which he completely and utterly failed to conceal his obvious feelings was pretty adorable. Too bad Four wouldn’t be returning the favor any time soon.

Four gave his arm an (extremely platonic) pat. “I’m doing pretty good I guess. I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, feels like I never see you around anymore.”

“Yup. So goes life. So anyways, how soon do you think she could start?” Four gestured toward Eight, who once again politely waved when Stephen turned to acknowledge her.

“Well… She can’t start receiving pay until she’s talked to the boss and gets paperwork and stuff figured out. But she could test the waters now if she wanted. If she does a good job helping out, it’ll probably help the boss overlook how, uh, abrupt this is.” He stepped away from Four and towards Eight, who hasn’t said a word to him yet. She felt a little bit out of place, watching Four and her… acquaintance(?) striking up conversation. “What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s Eight.” She responded shyly. “Nice to meet you.”

“Like the number?”

“Mmhmm,” She hummed in affirmation.

“Oh. Well, okay then.” He clearly thought it was a little odd, but didn’t care enough to ask questions. The world needed more people like him. “Well… Do you think you’d be more interested in the kitchen or in customer service? You need to pass a few cooking evaluations and a strict kitchen safety test before you’re allowed to work back there, but at least you don’t have to deal with jerk customers.”

Eight was certain she’d end up poisoning someone if she tried to cook anything. Better not mess with food. “I think I’d be better at serving.”

“Sounds good then.” He turned away from Eight, and back to the inkling of his affections, who was doing who knows what on her phone. “Are you going to hang out while I give your friend the rundown of how the place works?” His voice was hopeful as he clearly wanted Four to hang around.

“Yeah,” she answered, not looking up from her phone. “Eight doesn’t know her way around, so I need to show her back to the Square once we’re done here.” 

His face practically glowed, never had anyone looked more thrilled. “A-awesome.” He stopped, cleared his throat, and with a healthy purple flush coloring his cheeks, he walked back toward the employee only section, waving for the other two to follow. “You’re lucky you caught me on break. I still have another twenty minutes before I need to get back to work, that should be long enough to give you the basics.”

Stephen walked up ahead, saying that he was going to go grab something. This gave Eight and Four a short moment to talk.

“So…” The inkling started, gaze wandering the little eatery. “What do you think?”

“I think that boy is a sweetheart and I feel bad watching you get all flirty with him.” She wasn’t necessarily judgmental of Four. You gotta do what you gotta do. But she couldn’t imagine how badly she would’ve hated for Three to use her feelings against her before they’d started dating.

“Aw, c’mon. He knows how I am, he doesn’t mind. Besides, it’s gonna get you a job right?”

Well that was true. Eight didn’t know a lot about how surface employment worked, but she was fairly certain this wasn’t standard procedure, and that she had Four to thank for the opportunity to work here.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Just then, Stephen came back with a bundle of clothing in hand. It looked to be a pair of black pants, and blue button up and a white apron. Eight was about to ask, but he answered the question before she even got it out. “What better way to learn than in the field, right?” He pushed the clothes into Eight’s arms. “Those are some spares we had lying around the break room. Try them on and we’ll see how well you can manage waiting tables.”

“Oh… sure, okay. Where are the bathrooms?”

He pointed down the hall to the left. You know, she really hadn’t been expecting to be thrust into the job so soon, Especially considering she wasn’t even hired yet but okay, why not? With that, she went to go get changed.

* * *

She looked pretty snazzy in the uniform. Yes, she came to the conclusion that she definitely looked nice in button ups. She made a mental note to have Pearl take her button up shopping sometime, as well as show off the outfit to Three in the near future.

The first thing Stephen did was give her the basic rules and standards for employees. It was all pretty elementary: wash hands after using the bathroom, be well mannered toward the customers, etc etc. His break had soon ended, but now that she was trying her hand at waiting, it was more helpful to watch a pro in action than to be taught verbally. To keep things simple, he had only put her in charge of two booths, with Four’s recommendation. The younger agent had made sure to mention Eight’s lack of working experience, and how she may need to work her way up to handling an entire group of tables. Eight was grateful for Four’s consideration.

Four hung around in the back, watching Eight as she returned from taking her fourth order.

“What’d they want?” She asked, pointing at the small notepad Eight had been given to jot orders down on.

“Ummm…” Eight squinted at her messy handwriting and sighed. “I have no idea how to pronounce this, not gonna lie.”

“How’d you take the order if you don’t know what they said?”

“They had to point to the item on the menu for me…” Eight’s cheeks felt warmer when she noticed the intensely amused grin Four had on her face. “Oh shut up.”

“Didn’t say a word.” Four sing-songed innocently.

Stephen hustled over, large tray in hand. He had to have been in charge of wait staff with how much he was running around. The place wasn’t even all that busy, but still he looked like he always had somewhere he needed to be. “Here,” he quickly dumped the dish onto Eight. “Once you’ve given the kitchen that order, could you drop this by table five for me? Thanks.” Without even stopped to let the octoling taught, he was off again.

“What a dork.” Four chuckled after him.

Hm… the way Eight was holding everything felt kind of awkward and precarious. The tray was balanced dangerously on her arm, supported by her chest, while her hand continued to hang onto the notepad. Stephen had given it to her in a rush, so she hadn’t been given a chance to comfortably find a way to hold the large tray. She needed to readjust. Grunting, she switched the pad from one hand to another, so she could grab the tray with her dominant hand. Oh, but the bowl of pasta was a bit too close to the edge for comfort. That was fine though, she’d just grab it and move it towards the cente— IT WAS VERY HOT.

“AH! DAMN IT, ꊿꅐ ꂵꊿꋖꁝꑀꌅꊯꌈꏳꈵ!” 

Four cackled like a crazy person as Eight yelped and dropped the tray. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter, and though someone would be waiting a bit longer for their food, she was more concerned with inspecting her flesh for any sign of burnage. Eight glared at the hysterical inkling, who was bent over, clutching her stomach and gasping for air. “The hell was that?!” She guffawed, most likely referring to Eight’s momentary reversion to her mother tongue. “What’d you just say??” 

“It was Octarian you jerk, and it was profane. Now stop being a butt and help me out here.” Her hand didn’t appear to be burned too badly, but goodness if that didn’t hurt. There was a lingering, tender and pulsing feeling. She’d have to put ointment or something on it later, just to be safe.

Four whipped a tear from her eye and nodded happily. She mosied over and knelt down to help the distraught octoling pick up all the food. Eight grumbled under her breath as she gathered everything and placed it back on the plate. “You know,” Four started, “there’s always the ten second rule.”

“The what?”

“It means you can still eat floor food if it's only been on the floor for about ten seconds.”

That was gross. “That’s disgusting. Is that seriously a normal inkling thing? Would it actually be fine to serve this, even with it covered in dust?”

“I beg to differ, absolutely, and probably not. The ten second rule is sacred and has saved me the countless times I’ve dropped a potato chip. But restaurants like to carry themselves a bit better than that, and if the customer finds out you gave them floor food, you might be in trouble.”

Okay well, the frightening discovery that Four eats chips off the ground aside, she was relieved to hear professionally run businesses had some sort of standard.

“Wow there,” the startled voice of a male inkling came from behind them. Stephen looked down at the mess, scratching his head confusedly. “What happened here?”

“Eight burned herself and decided to take it out on this poor, innocent plate of pasta.”

Eight was beginning to understand the complicated nature of Three’s friendship with Agent 4…

Stephen sighed, then reached a hand down to help Eight to her feet. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it. An inkling came in a while ago though, she’s at table six. Could you get her order for me?”

Why was he so nice?? Not that Eight was complaining. “O-of course, yes, absolutely.” She made a pained glance at the mess that Stephen was now responsible for and cringed. “Er… sorry about this.”

“Like I said, no worries. Live and learn.”

Eight couldn’t fathom what Four didn’t see in him.

“You’re too nice for your own good,” Four helpfully pointed out as the wonderfully understanding waiter bent down to pick up Eight’s mess.

To which he responded, “Y-you really think so?” Lips curling into a smile and cheeks heating with ink.

Poor guy. Anyways, she’d better grab that order. She didn’t want to screw this up more than she had. It didn’t help at all that she wasn’t even hired yet, and blunders like that wouldn’t look good to higher ups. She needed to be on her best behavior for the rest of this training session. Grabbing her tiny notepad, she made her way into the eating area. She walked towards her assigned table and… Why was Three here?!

Uuuuugh, but she had this whole plan to like, surprise her partner with her brand new job. That’d go straight down the drain if she were her server. Maybe she could ask Stephen to give her a different table? That was a fine idea, but he’s really pushing his luck just letting her unofficially work a shift. Plus he just offered to clean up the food she’d thrown all over the floor. Besides, there was still a chance Three would see her.

What to do, what to do. 

Maybe Four could cover for her. If anything else, she wouldn’t be able to resist an opportunity to mess with Three. Eight quietly made her way out of the dining area and to where Stephen was just finishing with her mess.

“Uh… Hey, Stephen?”

“Hm?” He looked over his shoulder, bemusement on his face. “What’s up? Did you get the order?”

“No actually… see, I had this idea to surprise my girlfriend with a job. She’s kind of tight on money, and I’ve been living off of her paychecks, you know? But uh… the inkling at table six is her, and that would kind of ruin the surprise.”

Stephen nodded a little in understanding. “Gotcha… well, usually I’d say there’s nothing I can do but… since you’re not technically on the clock right now, I guess you could hang out until she leaves. I won’t tell anyone.”

That does it. She couldn’t resist. Eight threw her arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze. “You’re soooo nice! Thank you!”

“Ah, y-yeah, no biggie.”

Eight let go and gave him a thankful smile. “I was going to ask Alex to deal with it, but there are probably other staff that could cover me, right?” 

“For sure. Plus… well, I like Alex a lot, but I wouldn’t trust her with a customer’s food.” He quickly turned and looked at his crush, who was standing with her arms crossed looking only mildly miffed by that statement. “A-ah… no offense though.”

“None taken I guess.”

With that sorted out, Stephen left, presumably to find someone else to take Three’s order. Eight breathed out a great exhale of relief. “How do you think I’m doing? Good? Not awful?” She asked Four, who was back to scrolling idly through her phone.

“Well… So far you’ve injured yourself, dropped someone’s food all over the floor and are cowering in the back of the restaurant instead of waiting tables. But as far as I know you haven’t given anyone food poisoning yet, so I’m sure you get at least passing marks.”

“Gee,” Eight rolled her eyes in a vaguely snarky manner, “thanks.”

“All day every day,” the other agent proudly answered.

Suddenly, since it seemed he had a habit of rushing in and out unexpectedly, Stephen came back looking a tiny bit annoyed. “Okay so… It’s a table of three now, two others showed up. But also the girl who was going to get their order is on break and I can’t find her. And since today is a lax day, we only have a small group of people working right now.”

“I have an idea,” Four chimed in, raising her hand like a grade schooler waiting to be called on.

“What’s that?”

“Wait like… another ten minutes or so. Then go out and say their server bailed and apologize for the holdup.”

Stephen puckered his lips and narrowed his eyes skeptically. “I… Why couldn’t I just do that right now? They wouldn’t be waiting as long.”

“Because they haven’t been waiting long enough that something could feasibly be wrong, if you go out now, they’re just gonna think this place has slow service.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “Isn’t that sorta… poor customer service? To keep them waiting and then lie to their faces?”

Four disagreed. “It’d be stretching the truth, not lying. I mean, Eight did technically bail out on them.”

“Um,” Eight stepped into the conversation, “hey now.”

“Well… alright then.” Stephen agreed, sounding a little defeated. “I guess that’ll be alright. I just hope they won’t be mad. I hate being yelled at by customers.”

Eight smiled, and caught Stephen’s attention with a light tap on the back. “Don’t worry, she won’t yell. I know her well enough to know she won’t.”

And what do you know, she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it that Scott Pilgrim reference is happening if its the last thing I do. But this chapter was getting too long.
> 
> I have some announcements. 
> 
> 1.GUESS WHO FINALLY BEAT INNER AGENT THREE. THIS BITCH. HELL YEAH.
> 
> 2\. I have an ask blog on tumblr now. You know, the ones where you ask a character a question and you get an illustrated response. It follows Three (a different Three than in this series,) she's super sleep deprived, poor bby. As of now I've only got a couple things posted, it only went up last night. Here's the link for anyone interested: aidyr.tumblr.com


	6. Rum Raisin Is a Bad Flavor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight and Four grab some ice cream. But there's a bit more than just tasty treats in store.

“Thanks for your help today. It was… chaotic, but I think you did alright considering your circumstances. I'll talk to the boss and see if I can't get you hired officially. I'll keep in touch.”

“Thanks Stephen,” Four purred, “you're a doll.”

Was there any reason to keep messing with him like that? Now that the job was done, Eight was more than sure Four could drop the act if she wanted. It wasn't doing any harm, she guessed. But she still felt bad when Stephen inevitably got all flustered and giddy at Four's praise. She hadn't ever gotten the sense that Four was anything other than a silly little sweetheart while they hung out as a group, and while she was no means a bad person from what Eight could tell, she was revealing herself as mildly… sadistic? That wasn't a very nice way to put it. Uh… she liked to joke with people. That was a kinder way to say it.

Stephen giggled and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks matching his tentacles in hue. Eight firmly decided that if she does end up being hired here, she would have to find this guy a girlfriend. Because he wasn't going to get anywhere anytime soon with Four.

“Thank you Stephen,” Eight politely spoke up, momentarily breaking Stephen away from the lovestruck look all over his face. “I seriously appreciate the help. And I'm glad I got to try the job out before actually being hired, it'll make it easier if I do end up working here.”

The inkling smiled and nodded, extending a hand to shake Eight's. “Don't mention it. You seem like a nice girl, and I think it's sweet what you're trying to do for your girlfriend. Just make sure to not grab any hot plates while actually on the job.”

Yeah… duly noted. Her hand still kind of hurt.

“Alright y'all,” Four loudly announced, “I'm ready to blow this popsicle stand. Yo Stephen, shoot me a text if you get Eight a job, I'll make sure to pass the message on.”

“O-oh… I uh, I don't have your number.” He coughed awkwardly, and pawed the his pocket, presumably he had his phone in there and was waiting for his cue to get it out and get Four's number.

Four eyed him for a second, allowing him to fester in his nerves. Eventually she sighed and motioned for him to hand her the phone. “Okay you nerd, hand it over. Try not to blow a load in your pants while I do this, alright?” She pulled out her own phone and went to find her number, apparently not having it memorized.

Stephen didn't have any intelligible response to that little jab. He just sputtered incoherently, and fumbled his phone out of his pocket and into Four’s hand.

Eight hadn't even seen Three blush _that_ much, and that was saying something because Three was very quick to become bashful. 

Poor, poor, Stephen.

After a couple more thank yous and a quick fist bump goodbye, Eight had left the restaurant and was following Four back towards the Plaza.

“So…” Eight begun, wanting to get some conversation going. “That was cool. Stephen is nice, and I feel like I'll probably have a job soon.”

“Yeah, if nothing else, he is a really nice guy. Sometimes to his detriment, but y'know.” Four gave Eight a friendly pat followed by her signature toothy grin. “Heck yeah though, let me know if you end up landing it. You wanna go get ice cream or something? My treat.”

Oh! Free food! Yes, Eight loved free food. Granted the point of her job search was to maybe possibly get her own money so others would stop having to buy her food. But she didn't have a job quite yet, and it's not like she was eager to turn down free ice cream.

“Well if you're offering.” Eight grinned, already imagining all the yummy flavors she was going to get. “Oh, also would you tell Sheldon I'll probably be going with the restaurant job? He's nice and stuff but… you know… I don't know how many educational monologues I can take per day.”

“I get you. Sheldon’s a really cool guy though, despite what a chatterbox he is. Without him, I’m fairly confident I wouldn’t have been able to save Callie.”

“What’s the deal with all the anyways?” Eight wondered aloud. “People keep alluding to you saving Callie but I have no idea what actually happened. I know Octavio tried the whole flying fist thing again. I have to wonder why he continues to think that’ll work.”

“Oh well…” Four paused. She had this look which Eight could only pin down as thoughtful and reflective. “It's nothing as impressive as literally saving the damn world I guess. But long story short, Octavio kidnapped Callie and stole The Great Zapfish so I had to infiltrate Cephalon HQ to get both back. Had to fight my way through a lot of peons to get there though, and got a bunch of smaller zapfish on the way.”

“I see…” Why did that make her sad? Hearing that made her hearts hurt a little bit. She recalled an urgent lack of power sources underground. This was one of the many direct causes of the substandard living conditions her people faced. Of course, she understood it wasn’t Octavio’s right to steal power from the inklings, as they needed it just as badly but… She felt empathetic. Was that a bad thing? Deep down, she still kind of respected Octavio, even knowing some of the heinous things he's done. Was it all part of the brainwashing? Was there even any brainwashing to begin with? If there had been, she probably wouldn't even remember it. It had come up in conversation before with Three, way before they had become a thing, that Eight didn’t feel particularly negative toward her old ruler. And to this, Three had displayed adamant disinterest in feeling sorry for the Octarian king. She was, as she put it, “entirely over his bullshit.” But Eight wasn't so certain.

“Uh… Eight? You good?” Whoops, she had managed to go on a bit of a mental tangent there. She should pay attention to Four now, she seemed a bit worried. “You kind of spaced out there for a second.”

“Uh… Y-yeah… Don't worry about it.”

“You sure?”

“Yup. So about that ice cream?”

Four didn’t look like she wanted to change the conversation but went along with it anyway. “Yeah, I know a good place around here. You know what flavor you’re gonna get?”

“Nope. They’re all so good, I can never get myself to choose.” The octoling giggled, thinking back on her first experience with ice cream. Marina and Pearl had taken her to a nice little parlor, and she had proceeded to fill her tummy with six scoops of drastically different flavors. Marina had been utterly mortified by her decision to combine mint chocolate chip, strawberry, cinnamon swirl and salted caramel on one cone. But Pearl hadn’t been anything but impressed. Then the second time she got ice cream was with Three, who stared in disgusted disbelief as Eight had topped her double choco fudge scoop with a healthy dose of strawberry syrup and marshmallows.

Okay but like, in her defense, when you grow up eating edible sawdust, can you really be expected not to gorge when presented with ice cream for the first time?

“Personally, I recommend the birthday cake cone. Just smelling it is enough to give you an ink clot, but I think the immense euphoria you feel taking a lick is worth it.” Was… was she being serious? Was it worth the risk? Four sighed in exasperation, fixing Eight with a good natured smile. “No, Eight, I’m being hyperbolic. The smell doesn’t literally clog your arteries. Probably.”

_Probably??_

“Oh… alrighty then. Lead the way I guess.”

* * *

Well this was a nice little establishment. It was rather old-ish looking, with small leather seats lining a bar area. In front of which was a wide variety of ice cream flavors protected behind glass casing.

“So what are you thinking?” Four asked, pointing at the many kinds of icy treat in front of them.

This decision never got any easier… They all looked amazing. So many colors, and such fun names. Honestly, take this as you will, Eight was nearly convinced there were more colors in this shop than there were in the entire underground.

Oof, that was depressing. You know what's not depressing? Ice cream! Let’s focus on that.

She was particularly drawn to something called rum raisin. It didn’t look entirely appealing, but she remembered Three getting this flavor when they had done this. She found herself feeling curious what sort of delectable dessert her dearest girlfriend enjoyed. “I think I’ll get that one,” Eight said, gesturing at the aforementioned alcohol/dried fruit flavored ice cream.

“Um??” Four blinked, appalled by Eight’s choice. “Fucking ew???”

Eight shrugged. “Three got it when we had ice cream. I’m curious what it tastes like.”

“It tastes of unspeakable eldritch horror, Eight. And your girlfriend is a weirdo for willingly partaking in such an abomination. Or a masochist. Like, no kidding, I’m pretty sure Cod himself sent that damned flavor to punish us for our sins.”

Eight snickered, amused by Four’s intense -- and likely unwarranted -- hatred of the flavor. “You’re so full of it.”

“Fine, fine,” Four held her hands up defeatedly. “Get it then. But don’t come crying when you literally keel over and die sticking that crap in your mouth.”

She was probably exaggerating again. Probably. 

Four then decided on what she was going to get— a simple vanilla. A little boring, but that’s okay. She stepped to the side and allowed Four to make the order. She took a moment to look around.

There wasn’t really much to see. It was a nice place. A little chilly, but that’s a given she supposed. She turned to look out the window. She watched with moderate curiosity as the residents of Inkopolis went about their daily lives. People watching was fun.

She observed all the many kinds of people who passed her by. There were jellies, cute little things. She had been informed by Marina that, even though they objectively were, it was rude to refer to them as both cute and little. She didn’t quite understand why this was, considering neither of those adjectives were necessarily bad, in fact, the former was more of a compliment than anything. But regardless, she abstained from calling them cute to their face. She watched some crustaceans striking up a friendly talk. Iso Padre had been the first of their kind she had ever met. They were a unique species. Nice people though. To this day, Iso Padre was one of her favorite people and she often found herself wondering how he was doing. She saw various inklings, all sizes and colors doing whatever it is they wanted. A group of teens here, a couple small boys talking there, a tall intimidating inkling woman baring striking resemblance to Three making her way towards the ice cream parlor and—

WAIT WHAT?

Why?? Why the in the world would Three’s aunt be here of all places? There’s no way she knew Eight was here, right? Wait even if she did, what business would she possibly have with her? Okay panic mode activated, gotta think fast.

“Uhhhh hey, Four.” She quickly tapped Four on the shoulder, maybe a little too hard. The inkling had just paid for their ice creams when Eight came rushing over to get her attention.

“Huh? What’s up?”

Eight pointed hastily to the approaching inkling woman, who was now worryingly close to entering the shop.

“Oh what the hell?” Four squinted out the window, and confirmed to herself who it was Eight was pointing at. “That’s the lady who showed up at my house earlier. What is she doing here?”

“I don’t know but— Oh shoot, she’s coming in. U-uh, play it cool, don’t make eye contact. After what happened earlier, I don’t know how to approach her, so I think it's best we keep our distance and—”

“You, octoling girl.”

Oh for the love of… Ugh.

“Er… y-yes?” Eight turned to face the older inkling with such obvious discomfort, she was sure everyone in a ten mile radius could feel her anxiety. “What can I do for you?”

“You live with Hana, yes? Friend? Roomate?”

Eight winced upon hearing Three’s birth name. “Girlfriend, actually.” The octoling corrected innocently. From behind her, she could feel Four’s intense confusion.

“Oh. I see…” Three’s aunt seemed less than thrilled to hear that, but before Eight could ask what her problem was, she was speaking again. “Listen, I need you to give this to her.” She handed Eight a small piece of paper, a note. “That letter explains, in excruciating detail how obligated I am to pass ownership of a few items onto her. She should know damn well as I that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.”

“I… okay?” Eight inspected the paper in her hands. The parchment wasn’t average printer paper, it seemed sort of fancy. “If you don’t mind my asking, what kinds of items?”

The inkling sighed. She had only been here for a minute but she already looked as though she had wasted several lifetimes talking to her nieces idiot companions. “Apparently, some of Asami’s will and testament hadn’t been properly carried through. Word got out and before I know it I’m being sent halfway across the world to give that brat a box of useless junk.”

Eight resisted the urge to punch her for the tone of voice she used in describing Three as a brat.

“Hey uh…” Four piped up, awkwardly inserting herself into the conversation. “I know literally nothing about anything going on. Why did you show up at my house earlier?”

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose and mumbled something unheard under her breath. “Hana is an impossible girl to track down. The best we could do is find someone she, allegedly, associates with.”

“But? How??” Four questioned with bafflement.

“The internet is a marvelous place. It’s very easy to find people nowadays.” Was all she had to say to that.

Creepy, Eight thought. “How’d you know we were here?” She asked. She wouldn’t have minded the conversation ending right then and there, but her curiosity was getting the best of her.

“Small world.” The woman shrugged. “I saw you walking with the yellow one here and knew I’d have better luck with you than my niece.” She took a deep breath, then pulled out her phone to check something. She carried herself with an oddly dignifying air. It was weird to watch someone act so uppity knowing full well they spent years of their life manipulating and manhandling a child. “Anyhow, I have business to attend to elsewhere. Tell that hothead that I’ll be around whenever she decides to start acting civil. The note has my contacts on it. That’ll be all.”

She turned, yellowish tentacles bouncing as she walked, and made her way out of the ice cream place. Her heels clacked with each step and just as quickly and suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone. And all Eight had as proof of that exchange, was the small, folded note in her hands.

“So… that was a thing.” Four helpfully observed. “Hana, huh? Pretty name. I honestly expected her to have a more rugged sounding name.”

The ocotling turned and gave Four a super serious look. “Well, yes it is pretty. But promise me you won’t ever call her that.”

“I… okay? How come?”

“Just…” Eight looked to the side and frowned. “Trust me. She’d rather you didn’t.”

“Oh…” Four stood quietly, staring off into nothing in particular. “Okay,” she agreed. “I won’t. I Promise.” She cleared her throat and handed Eight had ice cream. “Better eat it quickly before it melts.”

“Ah right… the ice cream.” She took the frozen dessert in her hands and inspected it. The beige-yellow color wasn’t necessarily enticing, but she had already been aware of that. The taste is what matters. She brought it to her lips and took a tiny lick.

She gagged.

“It’s not good.” Eight whined, regarding her ice cream with a look of deep hurt.

“Told ya.” Four chuckled. “Here, you can have mine.” She handed Eight her plain vanilla and smiled. 

“Thank you.” Eight took it happily and gave it a taste.

Much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'd say we're finally reaching the climax of the story. At the very least we're past the halfway point here. Next chapter is going to be a Three POV, there's been a lot of Eight POV this installment. (Not that it's a bad thing, who doesn't love sweet little Agent 8?)
> 
> After this story wraps up I think I'll do a short fluff for this series. Like one or two chapters, minimal angst, just our girls being cute. They deserve it I think. Maybe I'll even do a short joke fic about Eight finally watching #TotallyNotLesbianPorn Blue is The Warmest Ink. I hadn't actually planned on that building to any sort of grand payoff, but ya'll seem to lowkey want there to be, so maybe I'll dedicate a fic to it. Who knows, that's like, way in the future.
> 
> Aaaaannyways. Thanks for reading. I was starting to slack off on writing since I just started that ask blog, but I'm back in the swing of things.


	7. Two Pieces of News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three gets back from her hang out with Callie and Pearl, only for Eight and Four to arrive shortly after. They bring two pieces of news.

Walking back to her apartment, Three felt much lighter than she had before. She should make time for friends more often. Of course she would, but so often she felt lethargic or content to do nothing so long as she wasn’t out on a mission or running errands. The effort it took to make plans and follow through on them had always deterred her from little get togethers like the one she’d just had. But maybe that should change. Her mood had been drastically improved, and she wouldn’t mind feeling so alleviated more often. Strange, she thought, that such an unabashed misanthrope could find herself genuinely looking forward to future social interaction. 

But like… it’s not as though she were a pathetic shut in. No, she wasn’t that bad, right? She should really give herself more credit. Her social life may not be the most extravagant out there, but at the very least it existed. She may not be the most sociable person, but she could hold a conversation with someone without fucking dying. Most of the time.

She supposed these past couple weeks would beg to differ. Between the embarrassing display she had shown after being asked out by Eight, the several road bumps which had occurred over the course of their first date and the rage she had experienced earlier that day towards her aunt. None of these examples spoke to a particularly competent individual, socially, emotionally or otherwise. 

Okay while perhaps some credit was due, maybe not _that_ much. She was an awkward, emotionally constipated mess. But that’s why she should make more of an effort to spend time with those who care about her dumbass.

The walk back from the train hadn’t taken too long. Of course, if not for stupid public super jumping laws, she could get around much faster. But… well… the super jump incident of a couple weeks ago was proof enough as to how much those laws were probably needed. Digressing, at least the walk wasn’t too far from the train.

Pretty soon she was back home. The old, humble, little place was a testament to how much money she had to spend. But it wasn’t as though she had expensive tastes, so it was fine. She stuck the key into the hole and turned. The door unlocked with a satisfying click, and pretty soon she was back in the familiar, comfortable setting of her home. 

Everything was quiet and still. So it’d seem Eight hadn’t gotten back yet. Her mind briefly wandered toward checking up on her through text but figured, nah, Eight is responsible and she’ll be back when she’s back. No need to fret. Though that meant the inkling would have to find something to do until her girlfriend got back. Uuughhh… She should like, find a hobby or some shit. All she really had was video games and watching TV. She wasn’t really in the mood to play games, and she had been watching movies nonstop for the past couple weeks.

Well napping was always an option. Though her spirits may have been lifted, going out and meeting up with others still kind of took it out of her. She certainly wouldn’t mind a nap. But then Eight would get back with her grand surprise and she wouldn’t be awake to hear it. Sure, it could technically wait. But honestly, she found herself curious what the octoling had gotten up to. Especially with Four of all people.

Don’t get her wrong, Four was cool and all. Kind of a jackass, though definitely towards the top of Three’s list of people she didn’t particularly want to strangle. But she hadn’t ever considered that she and Eight would be two to spend one on one time together. Cod save Eight’s soul, because that girl definitely required an impressive amount of patience.

Damn it, there wasn’t anything to do. Well… maybe Eight would be back soon and she could pass the time just chilling out and listening to music. 

That being as good an option as any, Three reached to grab her phone. But the jingling of keys outside caught her attention. As well as the distinct voices of a beautiful, sweet, and level-headed octoling as well as a lovable bastard of an inkling. Some higher power had taken notice of her plight and had made Eight’s return home rather snappy. Halle-fucking-lujah.

The door opened and Three was met with the unsure faces of her friend and girlfriend.

“Heya Three,” Four greeted. Her voice lacked its usual shit-eating-ness. “How are you?”

“Uh.” The elder agent shifted her gaze to Eight, who gave her a nervous smile in return. Something was up. “I’m good, I guess. Are you?” 

“Yeah, for sure.” The yellow inkling replied with an unconvincing thumbs up. “Me and Eight did a thing and then we got ice cream. And then some other stuff happened.”

“Well that’s vague.” Three unenthusiastically observed. Please for the love of it all, there better not be any bomb about to drop and decimate what temporary emotional solace she had only just obtained. The way the two were looking at her told her they had something to say, something which was making them nervous. And she didn’t care for that shit at all, no sir. “Can you guys cut the crap and tell me why you’re looking at me like you’re about to tell me the Easter Sea Bunny isn’t real.”

Eight couldn't hold back a tiny smirk. “The what??”

Four turned to the octoling with an equal smirk of her own. “Up here, we tell our children a giant monstrous sea bunny gives them eggs full of candy and money. They’re always really disappointed when they find out it's fake.”

“The surface is so strange…” Eight noted. She looked at Three and flashed a smile. “I have good news and… well, not bad news necessarily. Just, like, moderately off-putting news? Which would you like first?”

Okay, well, may as well keep this emotional high going for as long as possible. Before the universe inevitably snuffed it out with a fearsome vengeance. Because Three just can’t have nice things, can she? Ugh. Damn it all.

“Good news I guess.” She answered with a shrug.

Eight clapped her hands together. Her face lit up, and looking at her giddy smile was almost enough to forget there was disconcerting information just over the horizon. “This was the surprise I was talking about. I’ll probably have a job soon! Like a real one, with money and stuff.”

“Wait for real?” Three returned Eight’s grin. “That’s great, Eight.” 

“I know right!” Eight bounced over to Three and wrapped her in a happy embrace. Eight’s hugs were always super warm and comfy. Though Three did find her cheeks heating up as she realized they weren’t alone in the room. Even more so when Eight gave her a gentle peck on the cheek.

“Uuugh, get a room.” Four chimed in from where she stood.

“Fuck off.” Three was the best at comebacks.

“Fuck you.”

“No, you.”

“Okay, children, please.” Eight chuckled, her grip on Three loosening but not breaking off completely. “Sorry though, I’m just excited. I finally get to pay for things on my own. And help with rent.”

Three’s eyes widened a bit at that. “O-oh, Eight you really don’t have to do that. It’s my house, y’know? Rent is like, expensive and shit, and it wouldn’t feel right asking you to…” 

She was quieted by an Octarian hand being placed firmly over her argumentative lips. “Three, first off, it’s _our_ house now. I’ve been living here for a while. And that being the case, I feel like I should do my part once I have the income to do so. Take this as you will, but you’re kind of poor.”

Well she didn’t need to be so damn blunt about it, jeez. 

“But…”

“Dude,” Four spoke up. Her arms were crossed and she had what could almost be called a parental-esque scowl on her face. “I very nearly killed Stephen getting Eight this job, and all she wants to do is help your sorry butt pay rent. Don’t argue and just accept that you’re going to have some extra spending money from now on.”

“Who the hell is Stephen?” 

“Nice guy,” Eight said. “You’ve actually met him. Kind of. Anyways, I technically haven’t been hired officially yet. But I helped out and he said he’d recommend me to his boss so…”

The inkling felt her chest swell with something. Pride, maybe? Fuzzy romantic feelings were still pretty new to her. “I… That’s awesome Eight.” Three felt the desire to do something here but… Her eyes flickered nervously over to Four who was staring right back at her with an incredibly smug and punchable look. Like she was just _daring_ her to do it. That bitch. Okay, fine, PDA hasn’t ever been her specialty, but Eight deserved it. After giving Four a quick and frustratingly insincere murderous glower, she turned back to Eight. “Er… I’m happy for you. Congrats… on the job thing. I-I guess you could help me out… if you wanted to.” Eight nodded, her enthusiasm about paying bills was both bizarre and endearing. Her head bobbing was stopped however by the congratulations kiss Three pressed to her lips. An actual one mind you, not a peck.

The octoling hummed contently, tentacles swaying happily as she apparently cared far less than Three that they had company in the room.

The kiss lasted a few tender seconds and when they separated from one another, both their faces were hot and tinted bright with ink.

“That was so disgustingly sweet, I think I have diabetes.” Four groaned.

“I will defenestrate you.” Three warned, extending a finger to point menacingly in the younger squid’s direction. “Don’t try me.”

“Ha!” She laughed, “I’m calling your bluff.”

Motherfuc— you win this round, Four.

A couple seconds of silence passed before Three remembered the other bit of info she needed to be told. Clearing her throat, she awkwardly pulled away from her girlfriend, who still had a dreamy, starry eyed look all over her face. She almost didn’t want to ask, but she knew it was inevitable. “So… what’s the other news?”

“Ah…” Eight stopped. Her tentacles ceased their puppy like movement and she began to reach into the pocket of her sweatpants. “So, I uh, ran into your aunt earlier.”

Of course it had to be that.

“You _what_?” 

“Yeah,” Eight said, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “She gave me this and told me to give it to you.”

Three furrowed her brow and glared at the paper. The nerve of that woman, to use Eight as messenger after she’d been explicitly and aggressively told to piss off. She took the paper and turned it around in her hands. She kind of didn’t want to unfold it.

“Um… so that letter goes into detail a little bit but…” Eight pulled nervously at the hem of her shirt. She began to sway a bit anxiously, as she prepared to add something, probably equally as infuriating, onto this second bit of news. “I-I don’t want to get too into it… Cause I don’t know a lot about it, but, um… I think… maybe it has something to do with your mom?”

Three stopped. The paper was held still in her hands.

“What was your mom’s name?” Came Four, asking with great hesitation.

“Asami.” Three responded, cold. “Why?”

“Maybe you should just read the note.” The younger agent suggested.

And so she did. The paper was unfolded and everyone watched with anticipation for Three to find out the purpose of her auntie’s visit.

She began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit y'all, its the calm before the storm.
> 
> I was up till 4 last night so its a wonder I managed to finish writing this chapter and have it turn out sorta good.
> 
> Also guess who's cosplaying Dedf1sh to a convention pretty soon! Me! Hell yeah. Question for my readers, what's your favorite Dedf1sh track? Without a doubt mine is 14 Crush though the Splattack remix is pretty bomb as well.
> 
> I've been really slacking on posting these last few chapters on fanfic net. Whoops. Maybe I'll do that later today.


	8. Her Last Will and Testament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three finds out that her aunt had skimped out on giving her some stuff. Luckily Eight and Four are there to keep her from punching any holes in any walls.
> 
> Alternatively titled: The chapter that was going to be a lot angstier but damn it, my girls deserve a break

_It has been brought to the attention of the Silver Shoal board of justice for the deceased that a crucial section of Mrs. Asami Sakurai’s last will and testament had not been properly carried through. It is with firm suggestion that Mrs. Sakurai’s last living relative, her daughter excluded, right these wrongs and deliver to the child items stated very clearly in the will of the deceased to be rightfully hers. It is with obligation to the dearly departed that these mistakes in conduct be corrected if possible. The following will outline the terms for transfer of property and any other such requirements._

_The rest is as follows…_

* * *

Three held the paper tight. The remainder of the tediously written note became obscured as her mind became far, far more focused on the information just revealed to her. 

Four and Eight both stood wordlessly to her right, watching anxiously while her eyes scanned the note delivered by the octoling.

“That complete and utter bitch.” Three mumbled hushly, fingers beginning to crease the edges of the paper. What was she feeling right now? Anger? Sadness? Longing?? She wasn’t sure. Emotions were always hard as hell anyway, and labels weren’t her specialty. Whatever she was feeling, it was enough to have her ears twitching and her nose wrinkling.

Her mother had meant to give her something. Something so important, she made sure Three would receive it even after her dying breath. It had been over a fucking decade since her mother had died, why the shit was this only coming up now? 

“H-hey Three…?” Eight cleared her throat uneasily to get her girlfriend’s attention. Her attention was granted but good cod, let’s hope her aunt was military trained just as she was, because she had an upgraded hero shot lying around just waiting to be used.

“What?” The inkling breathed. Her frustration was clear and frankly she had to give herself a pat on the back for not punching a hole through the wall. All things considered it was a miracle she hadn’t gone on a manhunt the second she’d finished skimming the note. 

“Are you… okay?” She tapped her fingers together and nervously glanced around the room. “You’re doing that thing again. Where you look a tiny bit murderous.”

Four was rubbing her arm with a fidgety hand. “Yeah man. I mean, you can be a scary chick. But you actually look like you might stab someone.”

Zapfish help auntie, because it would be challenging to not do precisely that. 

“I’m…” Three chewed her bottom lip between pointed teeth. “I don’t know. I’m fucking pissed to hell, that’s for damn sure.”

“Well…” Eight placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a small, shy smile. “What else is new, right?” She was clearly trying for a mood lifting joke. Luckily, it kind of worked. Three’s scowl softened and her death grip on the note loosened. “But really. Are you okay?”

Three wanted to smile back at the sweetheart of an octoling but the turmoil and conflicting emotions racing through her mind weighed down on her. She sighed. Suddenly she felt awfully tired. “Eight, I really don’t know. I want to punch something but I don’t think I have the energy.”

“I see…” Eight looked worried, though understanding.

“Uh,” Four spoke up. “I know it's literally like, none of my business at all. But what’s going on? What’s the note say?” She pulled at the hem of her shirt, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Three eyed the note, then Four, then the note again. “Well you’re right in that this doesn’t concern you at all. But…” It’s not as though Four hadn’t already gotten involved. Seeing as how she was with Eight, surely she knew at least to some vague extent that her aunt was here and that she had some issues with her. She was going to omit some details but… fine. “So uh, my mom. She’s not around anymore. Apparently she meant for me to get some stuff. But my aunt never gave me anything. I don’t know if she didn’t know or just didn’t care but…” She grunted to herself. She didn’t want to assume auntie couldn’t be bothered to respect the dying wish of her dead sister, but she really wouldn’t put it past the woman.

“Ouch.” Four winced. She was being surprisingly delicate. Though Three guessed she never took her as someone who legitimately got off on being a terrible person. She was a jokester, sure. But not a bad person. “Yeah, that sucks. Sorry Three. This whole situation seems kind of shitty.”

Yes it most certainly was.

“So what are you going to do?” Eight prompted. “Are you going to see her?”

What choice did she have? As much as she didn’t want to, the desire to reclaim something her mother had to give her was far too strong to ignore. “I guess I kind of have to.” She answered warily.

“I can tell you don’t want to.” Eight observed.

“No shit. But y’know.” Eight knew more about the situation than anyone. If anyone was going to understand, it’d be her.

“I get it.” She replied gently, confirming that she did in fact understand the conflict Three was being plagued with. It wasn’t fair, damn it. Of course she wanted whatever her mother had left behind, but at the same time, she was finally happy. Kind of at least. More than she’d been in years. Her life had become relatively peaceful and aside from the occasional incident at work, she finally felt like her existence had mellowed out. Not to mention Eight and all the wonderful good she was. Then to simply invite her aunt into her life, into her coddamned house… ugh. It’s not as though she expected her aunt to hang around and make herself a staple in their lives. But it was the principle of the thing. Here she was, a grown squid, living on her own, away from her trashy aunt. She’s finally some semblance of happy, and just like that, auntie shows up with news that she’s been withholding one or more possessions her mom had wanted her to have.

That was messed up, right?

“Hey though,” Eight interrupted Three’s troubled thoughts. “You have all the time you need. Her contact info is at the bottom of the paper, you can call her whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush, y’know?”

“And,” Four jumped in, “you have friends who’d be happy to kick her ass for you if she pulls anything.” She offered a cheeky grin. Friendship was the darnedest thing, wasn’t it? 

Three looked between the younger two cephalopods. “Yeah, I… Okay I guess.”

“Okay you’ll let me whoop the butt of a grumpy old lady?”

Three sighed. “No you nutjob. If anyone is going to give her a swift foot up the ass, it’s going to be me. But I think I’m gonna have to restrain the urge to do that.”

“Aw,” Four pouted. “Lame. She seems like she deserves it.”

Eight made an annoyed _tsk_ -ing sound. She squarely crossed her arms and gave a steely grimace towards nothing in particular. “She definitely does.” She agreed darkly. Her eyes narrowed and her claws suddenly became much more noticeable.

There was something oddly addicting about sweet, gentle, agent 8 agreeing with no hesitation that someone should have a foot shoved up their ass. Neat as it was though -- and flattering, knowing most of the reason she felt that way was because of her attachment to Three -- the inkling didn’t like seeing her cheerful, kind hearted octopus feeling bitter. “Hey, I hear you.” She started, reaching out to take Eight’s hand in her own. “Thanks for like, caring and all that junk.”

Eight’s facial expression and body language relaxed just as quickly as they had tensed. She made no effort to remove her hand from Three’s hold and gave the shorter girl that ever lovely smile of hers. And like, holy shit did Eight have a cute smile. As much as she’d seen it over the past many months, one would think Three might be used to it by now. But nope. Goodness gracious, her hearts felt as though they’d give out basically every time. “So?” She began to ask, “when are you going to meet up with her?”

Ugh. Right. They should probably figure that out. “Well…” She definitely didn’t feel like doing it today. No thank you. That would be too short notice for her liking, and seeing her aunt twice in one day wasn’t something she was emotionally prepared for. Maybe not tomorrow either. She needed to do some agent stuff, run some errands as well as play a couple turf matches. Hmmm… it occurred to Three that fairly soon, she wouldn’t have to do that last one anymore. It was a fun pass time, sure. But got tiresome as a means of income. But with Eight’s new job and all.

Anyways. The day after tomorrow then. It wasn’t an off day per say, but it would be less busy. She’d go grocery shopping, do a quick check in with Cuttlefish, then be on her way.

“Day after tomorrow I guess.” Three said. She was still weighing her options, but as tempting as procrastination was, better sooner than later, right?

“Hey guys?” Four reminded the other two of her presence. She had her eyes on her phone and a grin on her face. “I’m about to get going, but I just got a text from Stephen. Eight, you’ve all but got the job. He said his boss wants to talk to you, but they’ll work it out from there.”

“Really??” Eight beamed, her entire being lighting up with excited energy. It was a complete tonal 180° but as far as Three was concerned that was for the best. Let’s focus on this now, no more complicated, frustrating bullshit.

“Fucking sweet.” Three replied with a much cheerier disposition than she’d had just moments ago. “I know I already said so, but seriously, congrats Eight. I’m glad you’re… er… excited to help me pay dumbass bills.”

“Three, I would pay every dumbass bill on the planet for you.”

Oh no, she’s too good. Three couldn’t take it. Her hearts! Be still her beating hearts!

Four was less taken by the abundant romantic cheese than her lovesick elder though. “Uuuggghhh I think I just threw up a little.” 

Three shot her a fiery glare and stepped closer to her beloved. “You shut your whore mouth.” Nobody smack talks how cheesy and romantic Eight is but her!

The octoling giggled, shoulders bouncing and tentacles swaying joyously. “Three, play nice.”

Hmmm… Someday, Four. Someday Eight wasn’t going to be around to reel her in, and that’s when Three would deliver a friendly reckoning unto that smug-ass face.

Said smug-ass then gave them both a cordial wave and turned towards the door. “Oki doki, well you love birds have fun sucking each other off. I’m going to head out. Eight I’ll let you know when you should head back down to the diner. I can show you the way again if need be. See y’all later!”

“U-um… yep… See, uh, s-see you later.” Eight’s peachy orange eyes had widened and her face had reddened immensely at Four’s innocent little tease. Were she not in the same boat, Three would’ve found it adorable. Damn you Four. 

A couple moments later and the door was closing, leaving Three and Eight alone once again. Oof, today had been a long one. To think she was meant to have the day off. Ha! That was rich. She just wanted to crash and sleep for thirty years.

“You look sleepy.” Eight pointed out with an amused smirk.

She swore, Eight had to be a mind reader. “Er… yeah I guess. A lot of crap happened today.”

“I feel that.” Eight paused for a beat, then glanced toward her bedroom. Her blush hadn’t gone away, but rather, intensified. “You uh… you… wanna take a nap together? O-or something? I could use some sleep too. We could cuddle…?”

Well how could you say no to an offer like that?

“O-oh uh… sure. Yeah that sounds good.”

“Awesome.” Eight breathed happily. She twirled one of her tentacles between her fingers as she turned to skip merrily toward her bedroom.

Three watched after her for a brief moment, then quickly hurried to follow suit. As she did so, she contently noticed the warm fluttering in her chest and grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been spending a lot of time on the ask blog, I've been losing time to write this. But uuuh, here you go. It's a shortish chapter and honestly maybe could've been included with the last one. But whatever. Next chapter is gonna move the plot a lot more and by move it I mean fucking hurl it across a football field. 
> 
> HHHHHHH I have shit I need to do, but uh, gay cephalopods amiright?
> 
> Also I'm seeing Detective Pikachu tomorrow. :)) Excited! My childhood as a movie. Question: What's your favorite Eevee evolution? Mine's either Espeon or Sylveon. 
> 
> Also also, I FINALLY started playing the Ace Attorney games. God damn time. Right now I've just gotten to the second day of investigation for the first real case. The one where Maya is introduced. Also, Maya is my baby fucking girl and I'll cut you if you hurt her. MUST PROTECT. I'm excited to get to Trucy cause she just looks like the best, but I know that's a while to come. 
> 
> Anywho thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: Holy crap this installment is over 20,000 words now. Dude why can't I be this passionate about writing papers for school?


	9. Deep Breaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three finally properly meets with her aunt.

Mistakes had been made. Oh how mistakes had been made. The tip tapping of nervous pacing was the most prominent sound in the little apartment. Three's hearts thumped against her chest with much vigor.

"I'm having second thoughts."

Eight, who was watching her anxious girlfriend with great patience and understanding, hummed in acknowledgment of this statement. "Better sooner than later though, right?" She offered a crooked grin of reassurance. It was an appreciated effort but unfortunately it didn't do jack shit to steady the inkling's frazzled nerves. 

"I'm starting to think that never, not now till the sun fucking explodes would be a preferable option." Every few seconds she stole a glance at the door. Just imagining what terrible cosmic horror would soon emerge from outside and into their home was enough to have Three consider the window a viable escape option. Cthulhu himself was quaking in his boots.

Three hears a heavy sigh from where Eight was sitting and turned to see what the octoling was being all huffy about. She was met with a an arched eyebrow and crossed arms. "Three," she started, going out of her way to speak carefully and sensitively, "you know I care about you like... tons. And I get that this is hard, but seriously, take some deep breaths. Everything is gonna be fine."

Willing to try anything to calm herself down, Three pinched the bridge of her nose and took a couple inhales. Though inkling claws were much less defined or formidable than that of an octoling's, having them fully unsheathed and pressed to your face was still ill advised.

"Three, try not to break skin..."

"Huh?" She noticed the mildly uncomfortable pinching sensation from where her claws were poking at her flesh. "Oh... thanks." She removed her hands from near her face and instead shoved them deep within her pockets.

All throughout yesterday, she had felt relatively calm and confident about this. But now... uuugh. Fuck this entire situation, honestly. She didn't deserve any of this crap.

"Three, come here." Three turned to look at Eight questioningly. "Come heeeeeerrre~" she repeated, patting the spot next to her on the sofa. Not seeing any reason not to, she did as Eight said and made her way to the couch.

"What?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Turn into a squid."

"Um. Why?"

"Just do it, grumpy-pants." Eight chuckled and beckoned Three into her arms.

Unable to find it within herself to argue, Three cooperated. She shifted form and in mere seconds had switched from her rough humanoid self into a softer, huggable little squid.

In squid form, half her face was still fucking blue which is something she detested. Usually visible injuries in humanoid form became unnoticeable when one shifted, unless it was like... a missing eye or something. But for some damned reason sanitization ink scars didn't seem to behave like ordinary markings. Eight's back remained blue in octo form as well.

All that aside however, Three had no gripes changing form.

Eight gushed at how adorable she was, just as she did whenever she switched to squid-mode. Then she scooped the little green cephalopod snuggly into her strong and protective arms.

Was it possible to blush as a squid? Three wasn't sure... she didn't think so, but she noticed a warm feeling in her face while being cuddled like this. Like she were a baby held by its doting mother.

"So...? Why...?" Three asked, trying not to think too hard about how close she was being held to Eight's chest.

"You looked like you needed cuddles and I like holding you like this." Eight chimed innocently in response.

"Oh... is that all?"

"Don't you _'is that all'_ me missy." Eight prodded Three's tiny belly menacingly. "You're stressed and cuddles make everything better."

"I..." Hm... it was hard to argue with that. Of course, Three was pessimistic about the practical use of cuddles in a medical setting, but with Eight staring at her like that it wasn’t a stretch to think she could be convinced cuddles were the key to curing any ailment. "Okay..."

Happy with Three's compliance, Eight began to gently move her fingers over the slippery surface of the squid in her arms. She sat back on the couch, Three held like a priceless relic, and rubbed small soothing circles over Three's head and tentacles.

Its was really nice.

She felt her worries slipping away with each second Eight pampered her. A comfortable quiet fell between the two. And together they sat and waited.

* * *

About twenty minutes had passed. Three felt like jelly the more she was massaged. She'd have to remember to ask where the hell Eight learned to be so good with her hands. When finally a knock on the door interrupted the peaceful mood, it might've been just as well. Three had been pretty close to falling asleep.

Not wanting to leave the arms of her girlfriend, but not wanting to delay the inevitable, Three took one more second to fully appreciate how relaxing it was to be held by Eight. She'd have to keep that in mind for the future.

With profuse reluctance, Three pushed herself off of Eight, onto the floor, and turned back to her full inkling body. A bummer that such tranquility had to be interrupted by motherfucking Eliza-squid Bathory (okay so maybe that was an exaggeration but fuck off, Three didn't like her very much.) But auntie had shit she needed to fork over. Once that was done they'd part ways and never see each other ever again.

She gave herself a short moment to steel herself for what was to come.

"Do you want me here or should I hang out in my room for a bit?" Eight asked, always so thoughtful towards the wants and needs of others.

"Here please." Three spoke gently, then followed coyly, "I need someone here to make sure my heroshot isn't utilized."

Eight smirked at Three's dark humor. "Okay, sounds good."

With no use putting it off any longer, Three made strides toward the door. Once there, she reached out toward the handle and paused only momentarily as years of pent up anger told her that whatever mom had wanted her to have wasn't worth it. But of course, that was utter nonsense. It could be a branch for all Three cared, she just wanted it.

So she opened the door.

"Hey... auntie."

"Hana."

_That fucking name._

Three noticed the little steel box in her aunt's hands and briefly considered swiping it then slamming the door. But for some unknown reason her brain kept her from acting out.

"So... let's do this I guess. Follow me." Three opened the door wider and let her aunt into her home. Ugh.

She lead the woman into the living room, and to the couch, where Eight sat completely silent. Three took a seat next to the octoling and motioned for her aunt to sit down as well. Which she did.

"Hana, what on earth did you do to your face? It looks awful."

The first question out of her mouth and it... Three took another deep breath and forced away a grimace. "It's a long story."

"I see..." she then turned to pay attention to Eight who, unsure how else to respond, meekly waved. "And this is your... partner."

Something about her tone of voice didn't sit right with Three at all. "Yes? And?"

Her aunt shrugged, trying to play herself casually. "Oh hun, you know I couldn't give a hoot who you do or don't mess around with. I just never expected an octoling is all."

Oh? Is that the fuck all? Three clenched her jaw. She was going to be the bigger squid today, for once in her life, she was gonna just...

_DEEP BREATHS._

"Okay anyways," Three pushed the conversation onwards, struggling to keep contempt from seeping into her voice. "What's in the box?"

Auntie gave her a extremely unimpressed frown. "Cutting right to the chase I see. Very well. That's something you and your mother always had in common. Always so eager to get what you want."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." Three spoke harshly, pointing a strict finger in warning. "I'm not sure how low is too low for you, but if you say a single bad thing about her so help me…"

Auntie groaned with showy exasperation. "Hana please, settle down. I'm here to turn over a couple items, not to disparage dead relatives."

Be that as it may, this woman was already on thin ice and if she said anything about her mom which could be perceived as even mildly hurtful, cod help her soul. 

“Okay well… turn it over then.” Three pointed at the box in her auntie’s clutches. 

“Hold your horses, child.” The older inkling set the box down and reached to fish around in her pocket. It took a beat, but soon, she pulled out yet another folded note written on what appeared to be high quality parchment. “Didn’t you read the note I gave the octoling? There’s an order to this.”

Actually, she hadn’t really read past the first paragraph but uh… nobody had to know that.

Three mumbled something inaudible about making shit more complicated than it had to be, but kept herself from speaking up. She was biting her tongue more than she’d ever usually. Whether this was because she had developed killer self restraint or because years had conditioned her to not argue with her aunt was beyond her. But whatever the case may be, she shut her mouth and took the paper.

There were far too many words for her liking. “Can’t you give me the abridged version?”

“Just sign at the bottom there to confirm with those nosy schmucks that you got your junk.”

“It’s not junk…” Three hissed quietly, more so to herself than to her aunt. She looked to Eight, who had been silently observing the interaction. The younger agent perked up at Three's attention. “Eight, do me a favor and grab a pen?”

Happy to help -- and probably feeling awkward sitting on the couch -- Eight immediately shot up and gave a great big thumbs up. “Be right back.” 

The pair of inklings watched as the peppy octo-girl hopped away to find a pen. She waited until Eight was out of ear shot, before asking Three with a thread of puzzlement in her voice, “Her name is Eight? Like the number? Octarians are… odd.” 

“Okay not that it's any of your damn business,” Three snapped, “but she doesn’t remember her birth name. It’s fine though, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mind. Also, I dare you to say another passive aggressive thing about her species, you’ll be thrown out of here quicker than you can say zapfish.”

It was funny, Three thought, that she of all inklings would be defending Octarians to anyone. Not like she’s ever felt legitimate dislike against the group as a whole, but let’s just say her job hadn’t given her the friendliest introduction to their kind. Agent work be damned though, Eight was amazing and being a prick toward octolings meant being a prick toward her and that wasn’t anything Three was going to stand for. 

“Try not to pop a vessel girlie, I’m not trying to insult either of you. I’ll be out of your tentacles before you know it, so hush up and settle down.” Ah, there was that authoritative voice Three remembered oh so fondly. And just like in her youth, she found herself begrudgingly heeding her aunt’s instructions. It was cool she had been able to slam the door on the her the other day, but her best guess was that the surprise of everything had overtaken her and her anger had been more powerful than her practiced acquiescence. But now that the situation was settling in, and now that she had willingly invited her aunt into her home, her mental fortitude was faltering.

As told, Three stopped talking. She simply laced her fingers together and stared angrily at the wall. It was hard to keep her eyes off the mysterious box auntie had brought with her, but she managed. 

Finally, saving Three from the suffocating tension which had begun to dampen the room, Eight came back to the sofa with pen in hand. “The best I could find is this red one. Is that alright? You need to buy more pens.”

“Noted.” Three took the pen from her partner. It had better be okay. If this ordeal gets dragged out because the pen she decided to sign with was deemed unprofessional, she was going to have a fucking conniption fit. She took the paper and used her thigh as a surface to write on. It was really weird writing her legal name on anything. The life of an agent meant secrecy which meant not a lot of traceable documents being signed. When’s the last time she’d needed to sign something as _Hana Sakurai_? She sighed as she finished signing, her face showing reasonable contempt for the name she had just written. But it’s not as though she could sign under her alias for several self explanatory reasons. 

She passed the document back to her aunt, who promptly folded it up and shoved it in her pocket. “Enjoy your trinkets, Hana. I’ll leave you to it now.”

“Superb.” Three gave a poorly concealed eye roll. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Her aunt clicked her tongue in annoyance, but otherwise kept her wits about her. “As rude as ever I see. Whatever. I don’t know if we’ll be seeing eachother again, but take care. I’ll see myself out.”

Auntie left the box sitting on the sofa as she stood and dusted herself off. Not so much as a goodbye between the two before the older inkling was strutting her way back in the direction of the door. Three did take notice of the final glance her aunt made in her direction before actually leaving, and if not for other more immediately important things (the box) she might’ve pondered what that was about a little more. But with the looming presence of her mother’s gifts and the triumphant feeling of knowing that her aunt would butt out of her life forever, she couldn’t bring herself to care. The sound of their front door being gently closed hopefully marked the end of a painful chapter in Three’s ever muddy life. 

As soon a silence filled the room, and all footsteps from outside disappeared into the distance, Three released a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding.

Yet another deep breath.

She… did it?? She managed to see her aunt without shit completely hitting the fan??? Wow… Was she… growing as a person or…? 

“THREE I’M SO PROUD OF YOUUU!” The inkling didn’t have much time to think about what any of this meant because very soon had an octoling all but tackled her to the ground in one of her trademark, body crushing embraces. “You totally handled that like a champ! You only glared like a dozen times and you didn’t even knock her teeth out!”

“O-oh yeah.” Three weakly returned Eight’s hug, her mind feeling a bit too fuzzy for enthusiastic reciprocation. “I guess I did.”

“Are you alright though?” Eight asked, obviously still proud though with her eyebrows lacing in worry. “It’s okay if you’re not, a lot just happened in a pretty short amount of time.”

Yeah, the exchange had been pretty snappy. Not a lot of small talk. But that's to be expected. It's not like either party had been raving at the thought of a reunion.

“Er… yeah.” Three nodded, giving Eight a small smile. “I’m fine, just a little shell shocked I guess.” 

“Understandable.” Eight’s gaze drifted away from Three to towards the box laying on the other end of the couch. She asked with cautious intrigue, “Are you gonna open the box?”

“Oh of course.” Three grinned. And, yeah, she was totally going to. But… uh… well, excited though she may be, she was also a tinsey tiny bit nervous. This was a weighty occasion after all. Nerves could screw off though! No way was she letting silly feelings get in the way of this.

Three predicted she'd be entirely exhausted mentally in the near future. She already kind of was. She wasn’t about to put this off though. She noted Eight’s hand giving her own a supportive squeeze and briefly reminded herself for the millionth time how lucky she was to have Eight in her life. What an angel. 

Three moved away from her girlfriend and went to pick up the box. Taking it into her hold, she noticed two things. 1) It was really really light. 2) She could feel several items hidden inside. The box itself was old steel, nothing too exceptional about it. It felt cold, but that’s to be expected. It was at this point in her observations that she knew she was simply stalling herself.

 _Okay Three, get it together._ She berated herself. _Let’s do this._

Her fingers toyed carefully with the metal lid. And after heaving a deep, calming breath… she unveiled what lay inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey. Okay so I've had some stuff happen lately. Not that y'all care but imma fuckin tell ya.
> 
> 1\. I went to a convention last weekend and cosplayed Dedf1sh, it was awesome. And I only spent like $50??? Usually I blow more than that. Although there were these cute af puyo figures I couldn't get because expensive. I did however obtain a couple cute Splatoon keychains, a Hugtto Precure figurine and a Diana x Akko poster.
> 
> 2\. I think I wanna buy a moped. Idk that's not important I'm just sayin.
> 
> 3\. I had another Splatoon doujin arrive in the mail the other day. Eromame ofc because their work is a blessing.
> 
> 4\. I got my first S+ in ranked. 
> 
> I think that's all the interesting shit to recently occur. 
> 
> Uuuuuhhhhhh I'm bad at authors notes lmao. Thank you for reading. :)
> 
>  
> 
> Was the Elizabeth Bathory joke a bit much??? I promise her aunt isn't _that_ bad y'all.


	10. Life is dumb and...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The box is opened and some fluffy feels are had

Oooh the anticipation was killing her! Eight watched with bated breath as Three studied the lid of the box. She too was eager to see what was inside, albeit more out of curiosity than anything. The buildup here had been kind of intense, so it was only natural she’d wonder what the payoff would be. Three fiddled with the container before actually going to remove the top, and Eight patiently observed as she did so. She _did_ have half a mind to step back and let the inkling do her thing, of course. No use crowding the girl. 

She could see the internal conflict all over Three’s face as she no doubt mentally prepared herself for the reveal. Sure enough however, she couldn’t stall forever. Eventually a look of resoluteness played out over her features and the top was promptly tugged off.

A tiny gasp was heard leaving Three’s lips.

Eight didn’t want to seem nosy, but wowee was her interest piqued. Rather than peer over her girlfriend’s shoulder though, she went with the subtle option. “Well…?” She prompted, hoping to get some answers. “Anything awesome?”

“I uh…” Three’s eyes had grown wide. The exact concoction of emotions she was feeling wasn’t anything Eight was sure of, but surprise was certainly among them. “I… Holy shit.” Three reached into the box and pulled out a cute little plushie.

Huh. Not what Eight had been expecting. It was rather beat up and old looking, but then again it had probably been around for a while. The toy itself was a simple, knit zapfish. There wasn’t anything significant about it so far as Eight could tell, but clearly she was missing something because Three was obviously shocked.

“That’s pretty cute.” Eight complimented, indicating toward the toy in question.

“It’s uh…” Three captured her lower lip between her teeth, pondering how to explain the plushie’s worth. “This was my first toy. My parents got it for me the day I was born… I-I used to carry this thing everywhere.” She turned the zapfish slowly around, observing it carefully, as if to make sure she was really holding it. “I… I haven’t seen it since moving in with auntie…”

“Oh wow…” Eight stepped a little closer, wanting a better look at it. “That’s pretty crazy.” But wait a second… “Why’d it go in her will and testament if technically it was already yours?”

Three shrugged, protectively coddling her zapfish. “Best guess, she just wanted to be sure I got it if something happened. Which… something did… so…” she trailed off, tentatively looking back down at the box. “Uh… Here, hold this.” she passed Eight the toy somewhat hesitantly. “Just be careful with it. It’s kinda old and… y’know.”

“Oh, o-of course.” Eight reached out a plucked the zapfish from Three’s waiting hands. Was it weird that she felt kind of honored?? Like… knowing Three, were anyone else to so much as glance at this thing, they’d probably have their jugular removed. Was that a hyperbole? Maybe a little bit, but the point still stands. Now with the little fish in her possession, she swore to protect it with her life. It was really soft, actually. It definitely made a great gift for a baby and Eight could see why her parents had chosen it. “So, what else have you got?” 

“Let’s see…” Three murmured. She sifted through what sounded to be various items and pulled out a… er… actually Eight wasn’t sure what that was. “Oh geez, mom.” Three’s smile was nostalgic and wistful. In her hand was a small, shiny something-or-another. It looked kind of like a toothpick, but it had a ball thing on it. It was petite, and golden, and super shiny.

“And that’s…?” Whatever it was, it was really pretty. But she had no clue what she was looking at. That said though, it did look oddly familiar.

“It’s a barrette. You wear it in your tentacles.” Three stated plainly, smirk spreading across her lips. “If I remember correctly… this thing was an engagement gift from my dad. But I’m not sure. It’s nice to have I guess, but I don’t know what I’m going to do with it.”

“Wear it?” Eight suggested hopefully. Three would look super pretty wearing it! But, uh, _pretty_ wasn’t really the word Three tended to describe herself with. Persuading her to wear something so lavish was maybe a losing battle.

“Nah.” 

Well, Eight figured as much. 

“But… you could wear it if you want? It would suit you better.”

WHAT.

“Wait Three? I’m like, really happy you’d let me do that but are you sure??” Truthfully, the idea of pinning such a cute accessory to herself was an appealing one. Plus, as said, it almost felt like she had seen it somewhere before. But still! This thing belonged to her mother for crying out loud! That was kind of a big deal??? “Three, this was your mother’s thingy.”

“Barrette. And yeah, I know.”

“And it was an engagement gift? Like… I’m still kind of fuzzy on what inkling marriage even involves, but that’s like, important right?”

“Er…” Three’s cheeks colored a healthy shade of green. The implications here were apparently going over Eight’s head though, because she wasn’t sure why this made Three feel all blushy. “I-I mean… yeah. But I don’t see myself proposing anytime soon… and I’d rather it get used than gather dust in a drawer somewhere. 

It was hard to argue that. “I… o-okay.” Eight agreed, pensively looking between Three and the golden toothpick she was holding. “Only if you’re sure though…”

Nodding courteously, Three put searching the box on pause. She set it down on the sofa, and waved for Eight to come closer. Happy to oblige, the octoling took several steps nearer to the inkling. Once next to her, Three gave her simple instructions. “Bend down real quick.” 

So she did. First, she placed the tiny zapfish she had continued to hold on the couch with utmost care, then bowed her head to allow her shorter partner easy access to her swaying tentacles.

“Hold still…” 

She felt Three move her hands through her tentacles, looking for a convenient place to position the tiny metal takoyaki. Eight noted with beating hearts that their faces were awfully close together and that Three looked particularly cute when she was focused. She stood still though, as she had been asked, and waited for Three to finish doing what she was doing. Eventually she settled on pinning it right above Eight’s ear. It fit like a charm, held nicely in place behind the rounded appendage. The inkling stepped back to admire her work.

“Does it look nice?” Eight asked, her tentacles moving about joyously, perhaps knowing what deeply important treasure lay atop them. 

“Fuck yeah.” Three gave Eight a hearty thumbs up, her other hand settling on her hip. “Really pretty. Much better than it would’ve looked on me.” 

Hm… As tempting as it was to chew her out for once again being so needlessly self deprecating, she could save that for later. A simple thanks would suffice for the time being. “Thank you, Three.”

The inkling hummed and went back to look through her box. Eight was left to wonder where in the world she had seen the golden trinket before… This was going to bother her forever. It seemed unlikely that she would’ve seen Three’s toothpick before, since that had been in a box who knows where for who knows how long. It was jewelry though, so it stood to reason that perhaps she had simply seen a different one of the same model. But where? And why was this bugging her so much?? Ugh. She’d have to think about it later though, more important things were happening.

Upon looking back over to Three, she saw her now holding a piece of paper. This one didn’t look as fancy as any of the recent mysterious sheets of paper she’d encountered. But whatever was on it must’ve been a big deal cause… wait was Three tearing up??

Okay, so she had clearly missed something. Quickly pushing away any and all concerns regarding golden head ornaments, Eight took a couple strides closer to her girlfriend and stood supportively by her side. “Um… you… okay?”

Three didn’t respond immediately. Whatever the note said had her full and undivided attention. Eight, growing worried, was about to repeat the question. But she stopped when she noticed the subtle smile the inkling wore.

It was difficult, if not downright impossible to accurately describe the emotion expressed by Three’s body language. It was obviously nothing terrible, so that was good. But regardless, Eight felt her nerves getting to her. “Three?”

“O-oh uh…” Snapping out of her letter induced trance, Three turned to acknowledge Eight. She brought her sleeve to wipe the moisture from around her eyes and chuckled lowly. “Ah… damn it, sorry. I didn’t realize I was getting all teary-eyed.” Once finished drying her face, she solemnly placed a hand on Eight’s shoulder as a gentle show of reassurance. “Don’t worry, I’m fine just…” She glanced back at the note. “It's been a hectic fucking few days I guess.”

“Yes,” Eight knowingly agreed. “It definitely has.” 

Though there was a biting curiosity here, Eight decided firmly that whatever was on that note was for Three and Three alone. She’d abstain from asking what it said.

“So,” Eight spoke, nodding towards the box. “Plushie, barrette, letter… anything else? It sounded like there was a little more in there.”

“Just some bits and bobs.” The inkling replied without hesitation. “A couple family photos, an old pen that belonged to my mom, and some family recipes.”

“Ooooh?” That last thing caught Eight’s interest. “Recipes? Like food? Anything good?” No offense to Three, obviously the girl tried her best, but she wasn’t an amazing cook by any stretch of the imagination. Pancakes were probably the most impressive thing she could make. Having some actual recipes to try out would probably be nice and fun, plus Three would get a chance to reconnect with her childhood a bit more. 

“Fuck yeah, are you kidding?” Three perked up, her ears twitched excitedly and she practically beaming at the mention of her parent’s cooking. “My dad’s peach cobbler recipe was in there. And that? That’s some good shit. Like, mouth-gasm level tastiness.” She sighed fondly. “We’re definitely going to have to try some of this out but… Hm… I’m a shitty cook. We’ll probably have to call Four to come help us, assuming Marie is busy.”

Oh… what now? “Four is a good cook…?” For some reason (which may or may not pertain to the fact that the squid in question was known to eat food off the floor) Eight couldn’t see that being the case.

“Yeah, I’m not sure where she picked it up. Maybe Marie taught her, who knows?”

“Marie’s good too?” That made a little more sense.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Three affirmed with a cheeky grin. “She could probably put restaurants out of business.”

Impressive! Well, neat. You learn something new everyday.

After that, the two fell into a simple quiet. The box was emptied, the aunt was gone, and the ordeal of the past couple days was seemingly coming to a close. There were still a couple questions that needed answering in Eight’s mind, but all in all, the conflict seemed to be passing them by. She looked at Three, who she caught staring wistfully at the note once again. She decided that maybe it’d be best to leave the inkling to it.

“Hey Three? I’m going to head to my room for a bit. A lot has happened today and I think I’d like to relax. You’re welcome to join me, if you’d like.” She leaned down, one hand softly cupping the inkling’s face while she brought her lips to press sweetly against the pale skin of Three’s cheek. “Alright?”

Three in response, grew warm and green in the cheeks. “A-ah yeah… I’ll be there in a sec.”

Gladly accepting that as an answer, Eight flashed Three a lovely little smile before subsequently hopping off in the direction of her bedroom. The octoling thought for a moment about all which had been accomplished lately. Craziest two weeks of her life. Okay well… maybe not, considering all the metro junk and everything with the genocidal robot and moving to Inkopolis. But certainly these past few weeks were a memorable few.

Her thoughts briefly wandered to the nostalgic look of thought and feeling Three had as she read the note. Once more, she couldn’t help but think… _I wonder what it said._ But in the end, it didn’t matter. Whatever it was had made Three happy it’d seem. And that’s all that mattered to her. 

* * *

_My dearest Hana._

_If you’re reading this, it means something unfortunate has happened. Really, I hope it will be a long long time until you have to read this._

_That said, no matter when or how you end up reading this, I want you to know how much your father and I love you. When you were born, we really didn’t know what to do with you. We were new to tiny trouble makers like you, and hadn’t any idea how to handle parenthood. Goodness gracious, I hadn’t even bothered to learn how to ride a bike by that point in my life, much less how to raise a child. We learned as we went though, and from day one, through good and bad, you were always the light of our lives. I wish I could always be there for you, but the simple fact of life is that its not always what we wish it to be. Sometimes bad things happen, and as unfair as it is, we need to play with the hand we’re dealt. Remember this though: I want nothing more than for you to be happy. No matter what path you choose to take, your happiness is my number one concern. Life is messy and unfair, but I want you to stay above it all. Knowing you’re reading this, I’m sorry I couldn’t have been with you longer. You’re my little girl though and you always will be. I hope to you, I’ll always be your mother._

_I wish you all the happiness in the world, and even more. I love you from here, to the far reaches of the universe, I want for you the best. Life it dumb and we’re never catching a break from it. But I have high hopes for you, and believe you’ll manage just fine._

_\- With sincerity and love, your mother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! This was a fun chapter to write. I've been wanting to find a way to squeeze the zapfish plush and the golden toothpick into this. 
> 
> Fact: Some of what Three's mother writes her in that note is based on a text I recently got from my mom and I highkey teared up a little while writing it. Rip me right in the feels. 
> 
> It seems I've finally settled on how many chapters this fic is meant to be. Much like the last one in the series, I think this chapter effectively works as the "end" whereas the last chapter is simply gonna wrap up a couple loose ends and maaaaybe set something up for the future. Once I'm done with this, I'm not sure if I'm going to jump right into another installment or if I'm going to do something else for a bit. (I've had a Pearlina smut and a separate agent 24 fic in the works for like a few weeks now. Plus I owe a really sweet commenter a Callie/Marie fic so there's that.) We'll see though. The next All's Fair story is set to only be like 2 chapters anyway so I might just go ahead and knock it out.
> 
> I wonder how long this series will keep going? Like... Each of these fics are kind of self contained conflict wise, and just have a shared continuity. So hypothetically I could write this series for as long as I can come up with good plots for them. But idk. Some food for thought I guess.
> 
> Aaaaaannyways thanks for reading.
> 
> Edit: Try as I might, I couldn't think of a way to wrap this up any better way than just leaving this as is. I'd say this is a pretty satisfying conclusion. Idk when or if the next installment of this series is coming out (currently I'm working on a Danganronpa fic,) but I will say, this was a very fun series to write and I'm extremely grateful for all the support I've gotten.


End file.
